


You and Me Against the World

by murmeltearding



Series: The Journey [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Anal Play, Blood, Blood and Gore, Caves, Chickens, Dementia, Drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, F/M, Fear, Fire, Fluff and Smut, Getting to Know Each Other, Grandmothers, Groping, Guns, Hurt/Comfort, Killing, Knives, Language, Non-Consensual Groping, Old Friends, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Outdoor Sex, Past Sexual Abuse, Rain, Sharing Body Heat, Shooting Guns, Smut, Weapons, Zombie Apocalypse, Zombies, first kill, initial outbreak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:00:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28528101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murmeltearding/pseuds/murmeltearding
Summary: Alana runs a café. Negan is one of her regulars.The story starts with the initial outbreak of the Zombie Virus.Negan is younger, nicer and a lot softer. He is still heartbroken over losing his wife Lucille, even though she's been gone for a while.Alana and Negan set out for Negan's cabin in the woods to hide out there until the outbreak is taken care of.Along their journey they meet a couple of people. Some nice, some not so nice, definitely all weird.
Relationships: Negan (Walking Dead)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Journey [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2089794
Comments: 22
Kudos: 24





	1. The things I never thought I'd do

**Author's Note:**

> With the Coronavirus going on and the first vaccinations starting, I've kind of got the idea of a real life zombie outbreak stuck in my head. So this story mostly consists of a mixture between stuff I dreamed and my obsession with Negan and wondering how he reacted when everything started.  
> I know he canonically used to be a sports teacher before it all, but that just doesn't feel like him, so I wrote him a little different... I also know Lucille died just when the outbreak started, but I wrote her as having been dead for a couple of years... just because it felt it better suited the story!  
> As opposed to my usual writing style, I already have like 6 or 7 chapters written, ready to be edited and I know where I'm going this time around... let's see if I manage to finish it!  
> In any case... enjoy the ride!! 
> 
> Oh... and as always... I'm not a native english speaker, so if anything sounds odd, please let me know, so I can fix it!

Deep breaths. In… and out… in… and out…

I willed myself to calm down. They always said to breathe slow, even breaths. This could only be a nightmare and I would wake up in a minute. Things like this… they only ever happened in movies, not in real life! That was the only explanation!

It was impossible!

For the third time I checked the lock on my stupid storage room door, unwilling to believe it really was broken, and cursed myself for only now realizing it on the worst possible day.

The noises outside were disheartening to say the least. Glass kept on shattering, slow footsteps and things toppling over… and the worst sound by far: the moaning… That sound they seemed to continually emit, as if they were mourning what they had become.

I had no idea how long I’d have to hide or what I’d do afterwards, but hide I would. I’d rather starve to death than become one of them.

+++

_Today had started like every other day, with my regulars coming in and getting their coffee, until Ms. Superbusy who was always bitching about my being too slow and making her late, yet always came back the next day, had just… lost it and bitten the guy before her in the neck. Literally bitten a piece out of his flesh._

_I hadn’t even been aware such a thing was possible with human teeth, but it obviously was. From that bite on, everything had turned to shit._

_The bitten guy, a bike courier who came in a couple times a day or not at all had seemed in pain for only a few seconds, then dazed, then angry, and not a minute after having been bitten, he had started acting just as crazy as Ms. Superbusy._

_The other customers had stepped away in panic or moved closer to help, while I had just been staring at them all. Not my proudest moment, I had to admit, but when Bike Courier Guy had turned towards the lady closest to him, Yogamum, while Ms. Superbusy attacked the one behind her, Yogamum’s nicer friend, I had been glad to have the counter between them and myself._

_Two had soon turned to four and four to eight. They had seemed to multiply like rats and less than fifteen minutes later, the whole café was nothing but, for lack of a better word, zombies._

_I had watched them, frozen, silent, unmoving, but once I had gathered my bearings, I had grabbed my bread knife, dropped down behind my counter and crawled into the farthest cabinet, pulling the door closed behind me. I had tried calling the police for a while, but the line had been continually busy. 911 busy… another thing I hadn’t thought possible until today._

_The newly born zombies had seemed to have all but forgotten about me and had continued destroying my café while I had huddled in my hidey hole, fearing for my life._

_Only when things had quieted down outside, had I dared to come out of my cabinet, legs numb from sitting huddled for what felt like hours. The café had been destroyed. Blood and gore was everywhere, all the chairs toppled over and many of them broken. Coffee beans from my decoration had been strewn all over the floor, mixed with flower petals in what a good author could probably make into a deep metaphor for life, and most of the windows on the front had been broken._

_The zombies, except for one, had been gone, thankfully. A young girl who usually spent most of her mornings sitting in one of the window seats, studying, had gotten the strap of her laptop bag stuck on one of the broken glass panes. Groaning and moaning, she had kept on trying to pull it free, her arms stretched forward, towards the street, when all she’d have needed to do was let her arm sink down so the strap would have slid off._

_I had moved slowly and carefully towards the storage room in the back, mindful not to make a sound that could have drawn attention and had hidden in there, sitting on the cot I had been sleeping on for the past two months._

+++

The doorknob turned. I had been half dozing, but the sound jerked me awake. I brandished my knife before me and got ready to strike.

My knees turned to rubber when the door opened. Good thing I was still sitting.

“Thank fucking heaven you’re here!” Negan, one of my regulars, exclaimed. He stepped into the small room and pulled the door closed behind him.

“Are you… are you normal? Like… not like one of those monsters?” I whimpered.

He nodded and crouched down to my level. “Are you alright?” he asked.

I nodded as well, working hard to stop myself from crying out with relief. I had been half sure everyone but me had turned into a zombie. “What’s happening?” I whispered.

“Hell if I know…” Negan answered, sitting down on my cot as well. He wasn’t wearing one of his usual suits and tie today. Shit must have started before he had gotten dressed this morning. He was in dark worn jeans and a leather jacket, encasing him almost like armor, a wooden baseball bat in his hand. “Everyone just turned raving fucking mad over-night.”

I nodded. “And still you came here… never missing a day…” I half laughed.

He smiled at me. “I had to make sure my favorite barista was safe.” He put a hand to my knee and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

Over the years he had come to my place, we had become friends of a sort. He had taken me home that one time when I’d gotten sick at work and in return I had made sure I never ran out of his favorite brew and always had a cup ready when he came in in the mornings. I hadn’t expected him to show up today though.

Our friendship seemed to mean more to him than I had been aware of.

The realization hit me hard and, added to the other shit that had already gone down today, threatened to overwhelm me. Sniffling, I wiped away the single tear that was running down my cheek.

Negan put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. “We gotta get out of the city,” he muttered.

“And then?”

“I don’t know… wait things out.”

“But won’t the government…”

He shook his head before I could finish my sentence. “These fuckers aren’t to be trusted…”

I swallowed. His idea was better than any I’d had so far, so I might as well… “We… We’ll need supplies…”

He nodded. “And weapons.”

I self-consciously showed him my breadknife.

“Better than nothing,” he muttered. “I got a cottage in the woods. We’ll go there for now.” He sounded like he was preparing for this to last quite some time.

I nodded.

“You got a backpack?”

“Yea, somewhere…” I freed myself from his arm. We had to go.

I took a breath.

We had to go.

Negan got to his feet and looked around the storage room. A frown appeared on his face when he noticed the stacks of my clothes on the shelves. “Have you been living in here?”

I swallowed and slowly nodded.

“Why the fuck?”

“Micah and I broke up and he… kinda kicked me out…”

“Fucking idiot…”

I nodded and started looking through my stuff, focusing on more important things than my fuckwad of an ex. We’d need clothes and water and food…

Negan pushed open the door and stepped outside while I packed.

He moved behind the counter and started taking the sandwiches and pies I had prepared to sell today out of the vitrine and into his backpack. Not the healthiest choice if we planned to live on it for a while, but surely the easiest for the moment.

I tossed enough clothes for a couple days into my pack, put on my jacket and poncho and stepped out of the storage room to join him. My working trainers were comfy and sturdy. My jeans fitted me well enough and I was confident I could wear them for a couple of days. The poncho was a bit awkward with the backpack, but it was versatile. I could use it as a blanket or a shawl as well, and if we were really going to the woods, I’d need it. It was late October. Winter was coming.

“You ready?” Negan asked, shouldering his backpack.

I nodded, looking over my once beautiful café again. I had put so much money and effort in it and it had all been destroyed in one single day.

It broke my heart to see all my hard work reduced to… a ruin.

The girl zombie from earlier was laying on the ground in a pool of her own blood. Had Negan dealt with her? Or had she killed herself? I decided it was probably best if I didn’t know.

Stepping out on the sidewalk was the first time I realized just how quickly and thoroughly the world had really gone to shit. Zombies were stumbling through the streets, alone or in small groups, seemingly aimless. Fires flared here and there stinking up the air with their smoke. Near and far, alarms sounded, broken by the sound of a lone police siren.

What the fuck was happening?

The day had started out foggy and sad. That, at least hadn’t changed. It was late afternoon now and it looked like rain. Probably not the best of times to start our trip, but what choice did we have?

I nodded at Negan and we started walking.

The streets were clogged with cars, most now deserted, with their doors open, some with their doors still closed and zombies inside, pounding on the windows as we passed.

Once or twice, a zombie took notice of us and started in our direction, but they were slow and we easily outwalked them. We stayed silent for most of the time since noise seemed to draw the undead.

That knowledge in the back of my head, I kept my teeth gritted and my fists squeezed hard so I wouldn’t cry out in fear with every new atrocity we passed. Negan’s hand was cramped around the hilt of his bat as well. He might be better at hiding it, but he was just as scared as I was.

When a zombie grabbed at me half hidden under a trash can, I only just stifled a scream.

Negan bent over it and bashed it over the head with his bat. It was a messy business, gore-y and bloody, but when he was done, the zombie was most definitely dead.

By the time the street lights turned on, we were coming towards the edge of the city, where buildings were getting fewer and had small yards around them. I had been watching out for zombies, but not paid attention to much else, so it was Negan who stopped me when we passed a gun store. Its door was open, but no sounds came from the inside.

We slowly moved up the few stairs that lead to the entrance and stepped inside. The store had clearly been raided by someone before us. Bullets were all over the floor and almost all of the bigger guns were gone, the vitrines pried open or the glass simply broken.

Negan looked around like he knew what he was about while I probably looked like a tourist. I had never been in a gun store before, nor had I ever as much as held a gun. Guns were scary.

Knives I liked though. They were good for cooking and crafting and probably stabbing and most of all, I was confident I knew how to use one without hurting myself.

A few of the hunting knives in a display in the corner were missing, but most were still there. I took one at random and looked it over. It was pretty, but much too big for my liking and it didn’t feel right in my hand; too heavy and awkward to handle.

Something out on the street clattered and I froze, slowly turning towards the noise.

Negan was at the door already, hiding in the shadows and looking outside.

“Hurry up,” he whispered. “There’s a bunch of them coming this way.”

I quickly scanned the knives again and took one of the smaller ones. The handle felt like it was the right size for my hand and the black, matte blade wouldn’t be as visible in the dark as a silver shiny one. Also: it came with a matching sheath! I took both and joined Negan at the door.

“Found anything you like?” he whispered.

I nodded.

He seemed satisfied as well. A revolver was sticking in his belt and his pockets looked heavy with bullets.

“C’mon then!” Negan said, moving out the door, away from the zombies and pulling me into the space between the ammo store and the next house.

Out of sight out of mind seemed to work pretty well with those things.

+++

“We should find somewhere to rest for the night,” I muttered.

Negan nodded into the dark, looking around. We had moved through a couple of yards, climbing over wooden fences as high as I was tall. Not something I’d ever have thought I would be capable of, but it seemed adrenaline made many things possible.

My new knife hung on my belt, within hopefully easy reach. I hadn’t yet had to use it… and I hoped it would be a while longer until it came to it. I wasn’t sure if I had it in me to kill…

We cleared the yards and came upon a street again. The neighborhood suddenly looked a lot nicer than when we had entered into the yards on the other side. Flowers and greenery grew in the yards, most houses had a small garage next to them and a few even had swing sets dangling from bigger trees.

A couple zombies moved at the other side of the street, eating… something I didn’t want to think too closely about. As long as they were occupied, they’d leave us alone… I hoped.

I was tired, not physically but emotionally and I wanted to curl up somewhere and sleep for a week, not worry about fucking zombies any longer. I’d already had enough of that today, but of course, each and every single house on our side of the street was locked. Great. Fucking great!

We could either go on searching in hope of a house on the next street being open or…

One of the zombies looked up at the noise of Negan smashing the window to the garage of the latest house we’d tried. It noticed us and started walking in our direction.

My heartbeat sped up.

I tapped Negan’s arm to let him know of the danger, but took a quick step towards the monster myself.

Well, maybe monster was the wrong word.

Except for the way it moved and the color of its skin and… well, yes, okay, it was a monster. The closer it came, the more obvious that was. It might have been human a few hours ago, but now?

No more.

That thought made what I intended to do a lot easier. I gripped the handle of my knife, willing my hand to be steady.

If I dropped my weapon I was dead. If I missed, I was dead. If I stumbled, I was dead. There was no room for error. None at all.

It would have to be the head. They always hit zombies in the head in the movies. A head was made of bone. It would be hard. But the temple was soft. Involuntarily I reached my free hand for my own temple, as if feeling the spot out and then I attacked, grip tight, knees weak…

… and couldn’t get my knife to penetrate.

Shit!

I took a step backwards to get out of reach of the zombie. Its disgusting, greyish hands reached for me, maw opened wide.

My whole body shook.

Shit.

“Come on, you can do this,” I whispered to myself, willing my arm to stop shaking.

Gritting my teeth, I tried again, coming diagonally from the side, aiming straight for where I hoped was the temple.

Everything besides the zombie and I vanished around me. Nothing else mattered. Just this… creature and I.

And this time my knife went in. It felt like chewing on sand, much too coarse and wrong in every way, but I pushed the knife in all the way to the hilt and saw the “life” go out in the zombies eyes. It dropped to the ground and almost pulled me with it before I could pull out the knife.

My fight had, of fucking course, alerted the others. A half-eaten carcass of something four-legged appeared under them as they all got to their feet.

“Negan?” I cried out, but he was already there, bat in hand and smashing the closest zombie over the head.

I gripped my knife and went for the second one. I would like to say it was easier the second time around, but… it wasn’t. It was just as hard and disgusting.

But it was either them or us. We had no choice.

Between the two of us, we managed to take the full group down.

The moment I pulled my knife out of the last head, my stomach heaved and I had just enough time to turn away from Negan before I puked. I hadn’t eaten much all day, so it was mostly just bile. That didn’t make it any less demeaning though.

“Come on, there’s more coming,” Negan muttered. He acted unbothered by my probably unconventional reaction to killing.

“What? Where?” I whimpered, wiping my mouth on my sleeve.

“Everywhere… come on.” He pulled me after him, towards the garage. It stood as a separate building from the main house and Negan had managed to unlock the door while I had been fighting.

Fighting… Me! That must be thing number 22 of things I’d never thought I’d ever do in my life and today I’d done them all.

Negan pushed me into the garage and closed the door behind us, shuffling a tool cabinet before the door to keep it from being pushed open.

“You alright?” he whispered, looking me up and down.

I weakly nodded. Hoping he didn’t notice how shaky I still was, I sank to the floor in the corner, hugging myself and doing my best not to hear what was going on outside.

Negan joined me on the floor and, for the second time that day, put his arm around me.

“Come here,” he whispered, pulling me against his chest.

I couldn’t put into words how glad I was for the comfort he offered. Being enclosed within his arms made it somewhat easier to block out the moans and knocking and bumping against the outer walls.

My heartbeat was so loud, I was sure the zombies outside must hear it. That must be what was drawing them towards us. It was my fault!

I could practically feel human teeth gnawing through my skin and tearing my flesh off my bones.

“Shhh,” Negan whispered, stroking my hair. “Shhh…”

I didn’t know how long we sat there, huddled against each other like scared kids, unmoving, but at one point, the noises let down. The zombies seemed to have lost interest and wandered off… or maybe they had simply forgotten about us.

Negan got to his feet and pushed the tool cabinet to the side just far enough so he could see outside.

“They’re gone,” he whispered, moving back to where I sat. For a man his size, he moved surprisingly agile. “Try to get some rest. I’ll take first watch.”

“You’re fun,” I whispered. “How am I supposed to sleep after this?”

“With the knowledge I’m here to protect you,” he answered.

I considered this for a moment. “Why did you come get me anyways?”

Negan took a deep inhale as he sat down with me once more. He had probably expected my question. “Long story…”

“You better start telling it then, we could die any moment!”

He snorted. “Did I ever tell you my wife died a few years ago?”

I nodded.

“I was in a real bad place… felt like life had lost all sense… I thought about ending it all every damn day…” He snorted a sad snort. “I was fucking done with life. With Lucille being gone… and the baby…” He paused and looked into the darkness for a moment, sighing. “And then you opened your café. I can’t even remember why I walked in in the first place… but I liked it. It felt… warm. You know what I mean?”

I nodded.

“And you were always just there and always laughing… you were kind, and you kept on asking me answers for your crossword… and I started telling myself you’d have no one to help you if I killed myself…”

I took his hand, giving it a squeeze. I had never been aware he had been so broken when we’d first met.

“And then you made me that soup after I told you I hadn’t eaten a home cooked meal in a while.”

“I remember,” I muttered. “I had never seen someone so happy over a bowl of soup.”

He nodded, half laughing. “It meant a fucking lot to me… made me realize even with Lucille gone, there was someone who cared... like I wasn’t all alone in the world.”

“I never realized,” I whispered, putting my arm around him and leaning my head on his shoulder.

“You saved my life, Alana! How could I NOT come for you on a day like today?”

“Well… we’re even now,” I muttered.

Negan snorted again. “So we can each go our own way if we feel like it.”

“Yea… but I… I‘d really appreciate it if we could stay together for the time being…”

“Me too. Sleep now. I’m serious. I’ll wake you in a couple hours and you can take over.”

I nodded and let go of him, trying instead to get comfortable on the concrete floor and making myself small against the cold.

Negan patted his leg where he sat and I put my head on his thigh.

He was there. He wouldn’t leave me alone. I was as safe as could be. Thinking nice thoughts, I closed my eyes.


	2. The Helpfulness-Dilemma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up on day One after the Apocalypse gives Alana and Negan a good impression on how their life is going to go from now on.  
> They have to learn to be careful with who to trust. Nothing is sure any longer, except that they have each other.

It felt like only minutes had passed when Negan roused me from sleep and I needed a couple moments to realize where I was.

Yea, right… Yesterday hadn’t been a nightmare. There really were zombies outside. I was on the ground in a garage of a house I’d never been in. I was cold, l my joints felt stiff and my shoulders hurt from carrying a backpack all day yesterday.

My fingers, as I stretched and moved them to get the blood flowing again, were sticky with… something I really hoped was just blood.

“You alright?” Negan muttered.

I nodded into the dark as I sat up and stretched my back.

The sun was far from rising yet. Negan would get a couple hours sleep if he laid down now. He had offered me his thigh for my pillow, so of course, I now returned the favor.

Staying awake, sitting in the dark, being perfectly still was near impossible.

More than once I caught myself dozing off and only woke myself up when my head rolled to the side. Blinking rapidly for a couple times only helped to a point. I took out my phone and turned on the display. It showed six in the morning, an almost empty battery and zero bars. I hadn’t packed my charger. I probably wouldn’t need it anyways.

How long would power stay up once there was no one to service generators, powerplants and the like? Without power there were no cell towers. Without cell towers, I wouldn’t need a phone. I might as well save the weight and just leave it here… or maybe not. I was too much a child of my generation to just leave my beloved phone in some strange garage…

I jerked myself upright once more. Shit! I couldn’t keep falling asleep. Carefully, I freed my leg from under Negan’s head and gave him my poncho as a pillow instead. If I kept sitting here, I would surely fall asleep. And that would be bad.

Normally, I would be having my first cup of coffee now, reading the news, on my phone, of course, and unlocking the door to my café for the early birds on their way to work. Maria would be among them… notorious early riser. And Danielle as well, before she went to her early morning spin class at the gym next door. Were they alright? Lord, I hoped they were alright!

The first weak light of dusk started blinking through the windows on the garage door and allowed me to make out features in our shelter.

There was a sink on one wall. Was it safe to use? Would zombies outside hear the water? Maybe… if I only turned it on just a little bit? My mouth still tasted like puke and I really wanted to wash my face and hands and everything else too… if there even still was running water.

I carefully turned on the tap and listened. It didn’t sound too loud despite the silence all around. Negan didn’t stir from the noise either, so it was probably alright.

The cold water woke me up fully and washed and with freshly brushed teeth, I felt almost human again.

On a small workbench to the right of the sink I spotted a grinding stone. I remembered seeing my father use one to sharpen our kitchen knives when I had been a child. It hadn’t looked that hard to do.

My new knife was in its sheath on my hip. I took the time to clean off the gore I had gotten on it yesterday and played around with the grinding stone a bit. The sharper my knife was, the easier it would be to stab people - no, not people - zombies! - in the head with it.

Seeing Negan stir on the ground made me want to curl up next to him. It would be warm and comfy… and I would fall asleep for sure. I couldn’t fall asleep. I had to protect us.

A shout from outside made me start.

I moved to the door and looked out through the gap.

“Let me in! Please god let me in!” The stranger had seen me and changed his way towards the garage, starting to bump his fists against the door as soon as he was close enough.

“Shut up! You’ll draw them all here!” I hissed and pushed the tool cabinet aside just far enough to let him in.

Half a second later, a gun was pointed in my face. What the fuck?

“Give me your stuff, bitch!”

“What?”

“Your stuff! Food, weapons, ammo,” he ordered. He was obviously some kind of madman and most probably on some kind of drugs. Had he even realized what was happening outside?

He moved a step closer and I took an equally long step backwards, hands lifted up to shoulder height. “There’s stuff everywhere outside! Just up for the taking! Why don’t you take that instead?”

“Where would the fun in that be?” He ushered me another step backwards.

“Fun?” What was he on about? “Listen… I got some sandwiches, I’ll just…”

Something moved on the ground and the stranger went down with a groan.

Negan got to his feet, kicking the dude in the ribs. “You don’t go around robbing fucking people! And you sure as fuck don’t do it while they’re with me, you got me?” He gave the stranger another kick. “Let that be your lesson, fucker!” Then he turned to me. “You alright?”

I nodded.

Negan tiredly wiped his face with his hands and looked around. “Fucking way to be woken up,” he muttered.

“I’m sorry, I thought… I thought he needed help…”

Negan said nothing. He stepped towards the sink and washed his face. “Let’s go before that fucker gets back up…”

+++

The day was long and exhausting. I would need some time to get used to being out and about and alert at all times on a minimum of sleep and, worst of all, without any coffee.

We saw more zombies, from far and not so far, and killed a few. It didn’t get any easier emotionally, but at least I didn’t puke once. And having sharpened my knife, it was definitely easier physically.

A light drizzle had started during the night and had continued all day.

By afternoon I felt like I was wet through to the bones. I would have fallen asleep where I stood, if it wasn’t for the cold.

We had followed the same street all day long and by now, had left the suburbs behind us. The rain seemed to get stronger, or maybe I was just getting more tired. Either way, we found shelter under a big tree, sitting down against its bark.

Negan hadn’t said much all day long.

Neither had I.

I was lost deep in my own thoughts, wondering about things… How long would we have to live like this? Were we the only ones left? Back in the city, I had felt like someone was watching us a few times, but ever since we’d left… I shook my head. Of course we weren’t the only ones left! There were people much better suited for surviving out in conditions like this. Those prepper-nuts had been right, after all.

I hugged myself and listlessly bit into one of the sandwiches we had packed. It was just as damp as everything else and tasted bland, but I was hungry and needed the sustenance.

Negan, having already finished his meal, got to his feet and walked towards the road, looking around curiously.

I watched him but remained where I was. I had just gotten halfway comfortable and the tree was a good shelter. Raindrops only hit me every couple of seconds, as opposed to constantly. Only a really good reason would get me back on my feet.

Cars blocked the road just the same as inside the city limits. Some had zombies inside, some seemed empty, the lights were on on a few, doors open on others. Negan checked out the interior of one of those amply named huge-ass Minivans I highly associated with mums taking their kids to soccer practice. A zombie reached for him from the interior and he stepped backwards.

My body tensed and my hand went for my knife, even though it would take me much too long to reach him.

Good thing Negan seemed to have everything under control anyways. He bashed the zombie over the head and pulled it out of the car. It wore a purple jacket and had obviously started out life as a woman… My soccermum theory had probably been right.

Negan opened the back door and lifted out something small in a baby carrier. I swallowed. Was it an infant zombie, a human baby or had it died of natural causes? That was the million dollar question. And it didn’t seem like I would get an answer to it.

“Come on over!” Negan called, once he had disposed of the mystery carrier a few cars over.

Slowly I got to my feet, groaning as my wet clothes shifted against my skin. I grabbed both our backpacks and tiredly carried them to the car.

Negan sat behind the wheel and had turned the heating to full blast. I tossed the backpacks into the back seat and climbed into the passenger seat. pulled the door closed behind me, holding my frozen hands towards the heater. After a minute of thawing, during which Negan kept pushing buttons on the radio but only got static, I peeled off my jacket and sweater, both soaked through and sticking to me. “Fuck I’m freezing,” I whispered, rubbing my arms to get warm.

“Yea, me too,” Negan said. He had fared a little better with his leather jacket, but his shirt was damp as well when he took it off. He looked at the back seat, then at the wheel again.

“Battery can probably take running the heat for a couple hours,” he muttered. “Back seat looks comfy. There’s a blanket.”

Outside, the rain was getting stronger with every minute. My teeth chattered. The heating vent was too small to warm me up properly.

Clumsily I climbed into the back seat and took off my shoes and wet socks. I pulled up my knees to warm myself as Negan opened the door and made it to the back seat like a normal person.

He took off his shirt and tossed it into the trunk with all our other stuff, before pulling me against him. I put the blanket over the both of us and sighed contently, snuggling against his chest.

“Fuck, your fingers are like icicles,” he muttered, taking my hands between his and rubbing them.

“Sorry,” I whispered.

“Forget about it… everything is like icicles… fuck!” He squeezed me against him harder and I wrapped my legs around him. Both our pants were damp as well, but taking them off would have changed things…

“I say let’s stay in here for the night and move on tomorrow. Fuck this weather!”

I eagerly nodded against Negan. “Anything if I don’t have to get out in that rain again.”

We fell silent after that and only the sound of the rain drumming on the car and the heating hissing filled the air. The windows quickly fogged up and it was dark outside. We were all by ourselves.

“Did you lock the doors?” I sleepily whispered. If we fell asleep with them unlocked…

Negan nodded.

“You think we’re safe?”

“Safe as we’ll ever be.”

“Alright then,” I shuddered, moving against him again. Despite walking all day and not showering in almost two days, he smelled nice… very male and of leather and… something else.

“Are you sniffing me?” he muttered over my head.

“Umm… what if I were?”

He snorted and I felt him chuckle against me. “Weirdo.”

“Oh come on! You would smell me too, if positions were reversed,” I said, pulling away from him so I could look him in the eyes.

“If my face were squeezed against your chest like that, I’d sure as fuck do much more than sniff you…”

I froze.

Had I just been cold a second ago? Because I sure as fuck wasn’t cold now. A violent blush crept up over my face and neck as I stared at him. Good thing it was almost dark and he wouldn’t see how red I was. “You mean that?” I muttered.

He shrugged, an impish smirk on his face. “We’d have to try.”

I smirked as well. This was neither the place nor the time for fucking, but… some… half-dressed… whatever it was we were doing, had never hurt anyone, right?

Pulling my shirt over my head, I leaned back, so I was almost lying down on the seat. It really was ridiculously comfortable for a car. “Sniff me,” I grinned.

Negan licked his lips and climbed over me, making himself comfortable between my legs and putting his head on my boobs.

He took a couple deep breaths through his nose before he turned his head and stuck it between my breasts, squeezing them together with gentle hands. The noises he made were enough to have me squirming under him.

“Shit, this…” He took another deep inhale from against my skin.

“You still cold?” I whispered.

“Cold? I’ve never been hotter… fucking shit, woman!” He pushed himself up onto his arms, looking down on me.

“Good,” I whispered, “come back down then.” I put my arms around him, holding him close as he lay on top of me. We both pretended not to notice how hard he was. Even the thought made my body react... What would he look like, smell like, taste like?

I cleared my throat. I couldn’t be thinking like this. We had to be on our toes, not fuck each other in a car, first chance we got.

The interior was slowly getting warmer. I pushed Negan off of me and made him lie on his side, facing forward, so I could squeeze up against him, spoon-style, blanket pulled over both of us.

His hands were around my stomach, holding me. His breath was hot against my neck, his dick… I ignored his dick. This was about warmth, not about… dicks.

+++

“Don’t move,” Negan whispered.

“What?”

“There’s someone outside.”

The blanket was pulled over our heads, the light of morning shining through it. Negan was right. There were voices outside. Three? Four? At least one female.

“We need to clear the road before we can take a car! Come on!”

“This jam’s a million miles! We can’t clear the road!”

“Then how do you propose we move even a mile?”

Why were they so loud? Didn’t they realize zombies were drawn by noise?

“There’s a dead one on the ground. Someone bashed in its head.”

Shit. We should have pulled that soccermum away from the car before going to sleep… but it had rained so hard and we’d been so cold…

“It was probably run over or something! Come on!”

Something knocked against the window of our car. Negan’s arm tensed around me.

“Anybody in there?” Another knock against the window. “There’s someone on the back seat.”

“Yea, so what? Leave them alone?”

“The windows are all fogged up. I bet they fucked!”

The door handle was pulled, but the lock did its job. “Fuck maan! I think there’s panties on the floor!”

“You’re such an idiot!” the female voice said.

The door handle was pulled again.

Negan moved behind me. “Can’t a man fucking sleep in peace?” he called, sitting up. The air inside the car had turned cold. Goosebumps ran up and down my bare arms.

“Shit, look at that lucky fucker!”

I slowly sat up as well, glaring at them. Negan reached for his pistol under his discarded clothes and pointed it at them. “Leave!”

“Jesus! Calm down! We’re all friends here, are we not?” The guy closest to us lifted his hands up to his shoulders.

Negan opened the door and stepped out of the car, letting a gust of icy air inside. “You better shut the fuck up or you’ll be dead within a day,” he hissed at the guy. “Now leave us the fuck alone before you draw every fucking zombie in the world here.”

“Just let us see your girls boobs! Come on! Don’t be greedy!”

“You’re such a dumbass,” another one of them said. “I’m very sorry sir, we’ll leave you and your wife alone.”

“Yea, you fucking better!”

I moved towards Negan on all fours, grabbing his elbow from behind. “Come back in here,” I muttered, pointing towards our right, where a bunch of zombies came towards us.

“Shit… they’ve never been so close…” another group member said.

Negan came back into the car and closed the door behind him. I pressed the door lock and we waited.

“Let us in!” one of them cried.

I shook my head. I had already let a stranger into our shelter once and it hadn’t ended well. I wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

There were a lot of empty cars. They could just clean out their own one and hide in there. It was only their fault they had drawn so many towards us…

And it was too late anyways.

Zombies started surrounding our car from every direction, momentarily darkening the sky, because they were so close.

“Fuck they’re everywhere,” the female called. They had been smart enough to move to another car.

I didn’t see if they managed to get inside or not though. Zombies blocked our view.

I didn’t dare move.

I barely dared to breathe. Negan seemed to feel much of the same. He had his pistol in his hand, gripping it so tight, his knuckles turned white.

We were surrounded. I could see nothing but zombies.

If they realized we were in here… No car would be able to withstand an assault from a group this large.

Someone outside screamed. Someone human. It was completely different from the moans of the undead. Blood splashed onto the windshield.

I reached for Negan’s hand, gripping it tight.

Was this what our life was going to be like? Run, hide, fight…

A disembodied hand, I wasn’t entirely sure whether it was human or zombie, joined the blood on the windshield. More screams.

I had most definitely just killed those three strangers. Just because I had thought my own life more important than theirs. Just because I had made one bad decision yesterday.

How were we supposed to go on like this? Helping one person had turned out to be wrong. Not helping a bunch of others had been wrong as well.

But nothing of that really mattered, because in a few minutes, we’d most probably be with the undead as well. One had noticed us and started pounding on the side window. Another one joined him and I thought I heard the distinct noise of glass cracking…

“We have to go,” I whispered.

Negan nodded. His eyes darted around the interior of the car.

“You think we’ll fit through there?” I whispered, pointing at the sunroof.

Once we were outside, we… well, I didn’t know, but there definitely was a crack forming in the window. We had no alternative.

Negan kept his pistol trained on the slowly breaking window while I rolled open the windshield. The noises grew much louder once there was no solid barrier between them and us anymore.

I squeezed through the sunroof, sucking in everything I had and quickly reached for the backpacks Negan handed me. Hands were grabbing for my feet and one of the zombies was already on the hood.

“Jump,” Negan ordered, pointing to the closest car. He was still half in the car, but pushed himself up onto the roof as I watched.

My body wanted to start shaking but I forbade it. I could panic later. Now wasn’t the time.

Negan jumped… it was actually more of a long leap than a jump, and waited for me on the next car, holding out his hand. From that new car, we could clearly see the dismembered bodies of our wakeup callers on the ground, pieces of meat ripped out of them, blood splattered everywhere, some zombies still breakfasting on them.

Negan jumped to another car and I followed him. The herd was slowly thinning out, but they were turning and starting to follow us.

One more car and we had reached the other edge of the road.

Negan jumped down and waited just until I was on solid ground as well. Then he started running.

The going was uphill. The ground was wet and mushy from last night’s rain. I sent a silent prayer I wouldn’t slip and fall, or worse: break anything.

On top of the hill a forest would provide some cover, but we had to make it up there first.

Zombies continued to moan behind us. I didn’t dare turn to check how far away they were. I didn’t want to know. They were too many to kill.

“Come on,” Negan called as I slipped and cried out. I caught myself before I hit the ground face first and took his hand. He pulled me after him and we made it to the top.

Breathlessly, I looked down behind us and found the zombies were having trouble getting up as well. We didn’t allow ourselves more than a few seconds to catch our breaths. There was no time.

“Where are we going?” I called.

“Away from them.” Negan said.

The forest ground was slippery with wet, fallen leaves all under our shoes. Should we try climbing a tree? No… the zombies could just wait for us until we died of thirst or hunger or whatever. Were there any caves? Or would we just keep running until we lost them?

I wasn’t a very sporty person, never had been, and I hated running most of all possible activities, but we couldn’t stop. I gritted my teeth to ignore the stitch in my side. Later, body! Later!

When the ground sloped downwards again, we slowed down. “You think these things can swim?” Negan asked, pointing at the river before us.

“I sure hope they can’t,” I whimpered, holding my side.

“You alright?” Negan asked, of course noticing my unease.

“Yea, just don’t much like running.”

“Yea, me neither.” He started hurrying down the slope, letting go of my hand so we could each steady ourselves on the trees left and right. This time it was Negan who slipped and slid down half the hill before he managed to catch himself.

“Are you hurt?” I called, hurrying after him.

“No!” He pulled himself up to standing and continued moving somewhat slower.

The river wasn’t too broad but the current looked swift. I looked up and down, hoping for a bridge.

“There,” Negan murmured, pointing at a couple rocks protruding from the water.

I took a deep breath. They looked climbable. The distance between them… I couldn’t guess if they were closer or further apart than the cars had been just back on the road. Could I jump the distance?

If I fell into the water…

“We can make it,” Negan confidently said.

If we made it, the zombies sure as hell wouldn’t be able to follow us. They’d get dragged away by the current if they went into the water. But if we fell in…

I wanted to move towards the rocks but my legs felt like lead.

“Come on,” Negan muttered, taking a step forward.

“I’m scared,” I whispered, not moving.

“Yea, me too… come on…” He took my hand and pulled me after him. “Give me your backpack! You can make it!”

I took off my backpack and gave it to him before I climbed the first rock. The moss growing on it was slippery. I barely dared getting to my feet. All fours felt safer, but I wouldn’t be able to jump from all fours.

The first zombies had made it to the top of the hill.

Taking a deep breath and resisting the urge to close my eyes, I jumped. Really jumped this time. My left leg slipped and touched water. I managed to stay on the rock, but fuck was the water cold! And loud… had the rushing always been so loud? Or was that my own blood in my ears?

Gritting my teeth and doing my best to stay focused on the task at hand, I got back up, ignoring the icy water squishing around in my shoe.

Just three more rocks and we were safe.

I couldn’t stop myself from shaking completely. Good thing the next rock was a little closer. I scrambled onto it more than I jumped. The last gap was the biggest, but I had to make it. There was no other option.

Negan was just one rock behind me and the zombies were halfway down the slope, falling and tumbling over each other.

I closed my eyes and turned back towards the safe side of the river, taking a deep breath. That last rock was much bigger than the others had been. I jumped and slipped and landed on my hands and knees. Oww.

“Toss me the packs,” I called to Negan. With him carrying both of them, he might not make it.

If he died, I might as well kill myself too.

He tossed me my pack first, then his, and then made me step back so he could come over as well.

Getting to the riverbank from the last rock was more of a climb than a jump. I pulled myself up by a couple of roots until I could grab hold of a young tree. Breathing hard, I hugged the tree, leaning against it, closing my eyes, willing my pulse to slow down.

We had made it.

We were safe… for the moment.

Looking ahead, I groaned.

Why couldn’t the ground go flat for a while? Why did we have to climb another hill? With wet shoes at that! Fuck!!

Negan pulled himself up to standing next to me and held his hand out to me. “Told you we’d make it.”

I looked into his smiling face and wanted to just break down where we stood. My lips quivered and I squeezed them together to hide just how done I was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, umm... yea, I know... sharing body heat, what have I been thinking? It's such an old trope, but... it works, does it not?


	3. Another New Acquaintance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As if the dynamic duo hasn't met enough weirdos already, they find another one...

A splash from the other side of the river made us look back. A zombie had fallen into the water and was dragged away by the current.

I slowly started moving again, pulling myself up the hill, holding on to trees left and right. My hands were shaking, my legs felt weak. I wanted a hot bath and some dry clothes… and a toilet.

“Where are we going?” I whispered, voice sounding shakier than I liked.

“I have no fucking clue.”

“I propose somewhere dry… and possibly warm. When did it start raining again?”

“Must have been while we were running for our lives,” Negan dryly stated.

“Well, at least I can check running for my life off my list now.”

Negan snorted, then he got serious again. “There’s supposed to be caves in this area. Maybe we can find a dry spot…”

“And a fire, hopefully…”

I rubbed my hands against each other, wishing I could do the same to my feet. With every step I took, water squished around inside my shoe, reminding me just how cold I was.

The terrain became rockier the farther up the hill we made it. I kept my eyes wide open, searching, despite the rain on my face. The trees overhead shielded us to a point, but the moisture collected in the leaves and the drops that made it to our level were huge and seemingly twice as cold as the rain had been yesterday.

I moved towards a long rock cliff that cut off the way before us. If I were a cave, I would hide somewhere behind this…

I stopped. No, this wasn’t possible. I couldn’t have found a cave so easily.

But… there was fire. The entrance was narrow, nothing more than a crack in the rock, but a person could obviously squeeze through. There must be someone inside.

“Hello?” I called into the crack. No one answered.

Negan turned and walked towards me.

I took off my backpack and handed it to him so I could squeeze through the entrance.

“Anybody home?” I tried again once inside. For the second time in as many days I had a gun shoved into my face. A bigger one this time. A shotgun probably.

I lifted up my hands on pure instinct. “Please don’t shoot,” I whispered.

The guy behind the gun looked only half human. Long, dark, greasy hair hid most of his face. His clothes were old and worn and much too big on his narrow frame. He couldn’t be older than 20.

“I’m sorry for intruding on you,” I continued talking. “My… my friend and I were looking for shelter from the rain. We’re cold and lost…”

The stranger seemed to understand what I was saying, and nodded at me before he pushed me backwards so he could look out through the crack in the rock, where Negan was waiting. His gaze fell back on me and he lowered the gun and stepped back, indicating for Negan to come inside as well.

There was intelligence in those eyes, but something was way off with the way he behaved. Judging by the way he looked, he definitely hadn’t ventured into civilization in quite a while. Lucky kid probably didn’t even know what had happened yet.

The cave wasn’t very big. About as big as my café, all in all. Just enough space for a fire and a few people to sit around it. The ground sloped downwards, the roof upwards, with a few holes through which rainwater dripped inside and ran down the walls in small rivulets, all flowing towards the back of the cave, where the light didn’t penetrate.

Scattered all through the place were definite signs of civilization. Newspapers, magazines and books, rusty cans, a dirty sleeping bag, dented pots and pans, the shotgun… but everything looked old and worn.

Negan pushed our backpacks through the narrow gap and I took them, never leaving our host out of sight.

The boy nervously eyed Negan as he squished through inside. The shotgun wanted to move upwards again when he realized how tall Negan was.

“We won’t hurt you,” I promised, stepping between them.

The gun lowered again.

“May we…” I motioned at the small fire.

Shielded from the rain and the wind, it was much more comfortable inside than it had been outside but my teeth still wanted to chatter and I felt wet through to the bone.

How long had we even been outside? My phone’s battery had given out long ago. Without it, I had no way of telling time. I felt like the day had already lasted for hours and yet… it couldn’t be much later than 10.

Our host nodded and I quickly made it to the fire, sitting down on the rocky ground and warming my hands, before taking off my wet shoes, sighing softly.

Negan joined me only after he had inspected the cave thoroughly. He took off his jacket and placed it on a boulder close to the fire, so it might dry. I did the same, under our hosts watchful eyes.

Upon noticing the boy’s expression, Negan put his arm around me in what might have been a possessive gesture and pushed my backpack towards me. “Your hands are doing that shaking thing,” he murmured, “you need to eat something.”

On busy days in the café, when I hadn’t had time to eat before the first rush of customers came in, he had often noticed my shaking and he knew all about it. Low blood sugar was a bitch.

I looked through our rapidly shrinking provisions and dug out a squished piece of cheesecake from the very bottom.

Negan took one of the sandwiches and offered our host one as well. “You want something, pal? You look like you could use some protein.”

Our host took the sandwich and eyed it for a moment, sniffing it and finally greedily biting into it.

“You wouldn’t happen to have any coffee, eh?” Negan asked.

The kid shook his head.

I would have loved some coffee… damn.

Even without coffee though, the food did wonders for my constitution and I allowed myself to relax a bit. I pulled off my damp sweater as the fire warmed me more and more and looked for a space to put it so it could dry as well.

Our host noticed my search and indicated for me to wait. He found a length of string and started knotting it from one wall to the other, and back again, creating a clothesline that went all through the chamber.

“That’s so nice!!” I called out and hung my sweater close to the fire.

Everything inside my backpack, including my few toiletries, was damp as well, but if we kept the fire burning through the night we might manage to dry everything. There was still hope we wouldn’t be wet and damp smelling for all eternity! I took out my clothes one piece after another and hung everything.

Our host watched me intently, sitting by the fire and slowly eating, chewing as if he hadn’t had a sandwich in a while.

Negan, after finishing his breakfast, started to take out his own clothes and hanging them as well.

“I’m Alana, by the way,” I said once I was done, pointing at myself, “and this is Negan.”

Our host swallowed and cleared his throat. “M….mario,” he said, pointing to his own chest. His voice sounded younger than I had estimated him. Like he was maybe 15 or so.

“Thank you for letting us come inside,” I said. “It was so cold outside and I got my shoes wet and…” I stopped. Mario had been an obvious oddball ever since we entered his cave, but something in him seemed to have changed.

He took a step towards me.

“Are you alright?” I asked.

Mario nodded thoughtfully, but kept his eyes firmly on me.

What was wrong with him? Had I done something to offend him?

He took another step towards me, and another. Just before he was within touching distance, Negan stepped in. “No touching,” he firmly said, “you understand me?”

Mario slowly lifted his gaze up and nodded at Negan.

Alright. This was officially creepy. Should we leave?

Mario stepped to the other side of the fire and sat down, eyeing me silently.

Negan and I sat down again as well. I moved closer towards him than I’d normally sit. Mario was scary.

After a couple minutes of silently seizing us up Mario got up, seemingly searching for something.

“Should we leave?” I whispered to Negan.

“I’d rather not get back out there while its pissing like that,” Negan answered, looking up at the roof of the cave. The small parts of sky we saw were dark with heavy clouds.

I had to agree with him on that, but…

Mario seemed to have found what he was looking for and he proudly moved towards us, holding a children’s book in his hands. He had opened it to the page that showed a man and a woman next to each other, both naked, both drawn in infantilized versions. He pointed at the man and then at Negan and himself. Then he looked at me and excitedly pointed at the figure of the woman.

What the fuck.

This was getting weirder and weirder. Why was a teenage boy living in a cave in the forest all by himself, acting like he had never eaten a sandwich before, obviously never having seen a woman in his entire life…

“Yea, she’s a woman, buddy,” Negan said. “We treat them with respect, you understand? No touching without permission!”

“To…uching,” Mario slowly repeated.

“NO touching,” Negan said.

“Pretty…” Mario said, looking me up and down with obvious curiosity.

It took everything I had to keep my face neutral. How long hat that poor child lived here? How long had he been alone? Where were his parents?

“Yea, she’s pretty,” Negan agreed. “But she’s mine.” He pointed at his own chest.

Mario seemed to understand that. He pointed at me, then at Negan, looking at me questioningly.

I nodded and took Negan’s hand.

Mario didn’t seem to like that. His shoulders sacked and he sighed, longingly looking at me. “Pretty,” he repeated.

“Mine,” Negan insisted.

I was getting seriously uncomfortable with the kid. Why couldn’t we meet a single normal person on this… this adventure, for lack of a better word? Where had all the nice people gone? Had only the weirdos survived? Did that mean we were weirdos as well?

Suddenly I wanted nothing more than go back home. Lock the door behind me, turn on the TV and think of nothing and no one for a while. It wasn’t that I didn’t feel safe with Negan, it was just that I didn’t trust all those other people. They started to creep me out more than the undead.

+++

If I had believed I was uncomfortable before, it only got worse from there. Mario kept watching me, taking note of my every move. Whenever I moved, he moved as well, trying to get closer.

The more he tried to get closer, the less I wanted him close.

When Negan stepped outside to relieve himself, Mario seemed to find that was his perfect chance to make a move. He sat down beside me, curiously staring at my cleavage and moving a hand towards me.

I shook my head at him. “Look, don’t touch,” I said, pushing his hand down.

“Touch,” he repeated, slipping his hand out from under mine and trying again.

“NO touch.” I insisted.

He didn’t seem to hear me. Slowly his hand moved towards me, clearly steering towards my breasts.

“NO!” I said again, but he wasn’t listening. I slapped away his hand before he could touch me and got up. “NO!”

“Oww!” Mario said, looking at his hand.

“Yea, there’s a lot more oww waiting where that came from,” I growled.

Mario came after me and reached for me again. I caught his wrist midair. I didn’t want to hurt him, but who knew what was going through his little head. He had no idea how to control his urges and I sure as fuck…

He grabbed my breast with his second hand. Alright. That was enough.

I slapped him in the face.

“OWW!” he exclaimed, coming towards me again.

I knew I wasn’t in the best spot to defend myself. He had lived his live in the wilderness, probably hunting for himself. He must be strong to survive here. But I had been stowing away huge ass bags of coffee and cartons of milk for years and I had a knife. I wasn’t a helpless damsel either.

Mario ushered me backwards until I hit the wall and tried to grab my wrist like I had grabbed his.

Yea, definitely fucking not!

I didn’t want to hurt him, but… I pulled my knife and cut at his outstretched arm in the same move.

“OWW!” he screamed, his voice sounding more childlike than ever.

The grinding stone really had done its job. My cut was deep. Mario’s grip, when he next tried grabbing for me, was slippery. His hand left a bloody imprint on my breast.

“Don’t make me hurt you again!” I hissed through gritted teeth, slapping away his hand.

“Hurt!” he repeated.

“Yes! Hurt!”

“No hurt!” he whimpered, taking a step back.

“Then you stop!”

“Stop?”

“Yes! Stop!”

He took a step backwards and looked at his bleeding arm as if he was seeing it for the very first time. The cut went along half of his lower arm and the skin gaped open, showing muscle and fat tissue.

He’d definitely need stitches. Shit.

I had brought a first aid kit, but I’d never given anyone stitches. I doubted there was even a suture needle in the kit. Why would there be? Under normal circumstances one would call the ambulance.

Negan squeezed back inside and looked at the scene before him. “How long was I the fuck out?” he asked.

“Long enough,” I muttered.

“What did you do, kid?”

“Touch,” Mario sulkily answered.

“No fucking shit,” Negan muttered. “Are you alright?” he said to me.

I nodded.

“Come on, kid! I’ll patch you up,” Negan offered, taking a first aid kit from his stuff and moving towards Mario.

“Hurt!” Mario took a few steps towards the back of the cave, watching Negan like a scared rabbit.

“Yea, you’ve been bad,” Negan said, trying once more to step towards the kid.

Mario moved further away, looking up at Negan, cradling his arm. “Bad?”

“You tried touching her without permission! Fucking told you we didn’t do that!”

“Fu…cking…” Mario repeated, seeming to have forgotten all about his bleeding arm. He let it drop to his side, where it happily continued dripping away.

“I’m so outta here,” I whispered, starting to grab my stuff. Rain or not, I wouldn’t stay with this kid a minute longer, now he had gotten that idea in his sick little head.

“Kid, you either let me patch you up or you’ll fucking die, you understand me?” Negan said.

Mario looked at his arm again, wiping the blood on his shirt. “Hurt!” he shouted and started hissing like a feral cat, moving further and further backwards into the cave, away from us.

“Well suit yourself,” Negan muttered and tossed his first aid kit back with his other stuff. “Kid won’t make it through the night,” he said. “He’s bleeding like a pig!”

I looked at Mario as well. His face had gotten visibly paler and he seemed unsteady on his feet, yet he made no move to still the bleeding. His injured arm hung by his side limply, blood dripping to the ground.

I stopped my packing. We couldn’t just let him bleed out! He was just a kid who didn’t know better…

“Mario?” I softly said.

He stopped his hissing and looked at me.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

Mario sat down and put his arm in his lap, curiously watching me.

I took a step towards him, but he instantly tensed again and looked about ready to jump me if I moved any closer. His hisses eerily echoed through the cave. “Alana hurt!”

“I’m sorry,” I repeated.

The sentiment didn’t seem to register with him. He remained sitting on the ground, watching the blood and started hissing again whenever I tried to move closer.

At this rate, he would be dead in an hour at the most. We couldn’t just… or could we? But if he died now, I had as good as killed him! AGAIN!

“We’re leaving a trace of bodies wherever we go,” I whispered.

“Good thing we’re leaving no witnesses or we’d work up a reputation,” Negan snorted.

“Not the time for jokes,” I dryly stated.

“I’m not fucking joking. With this shitshow going on outside, you can’t let people walk all over you. You defended yourself!” He shrugged. “Good for you, bad for him. He doesn’t fucking matter! You and I are the only ones that matter!” Negan said. “And how long do you think it would have taken him to run into a fucking zombie and get eaten anyways?”

I sighed.

Mario silently watched us. His eyes looked incredibly big… and innocent.

“I… I think I overreacted,” I muttered.

“Believe me when I say: you didn’t.”

“How would you know?”

Negan inhaled deeply and gripped my wrist. “Because your fucking ex told me what he was doing to you. He was so fucking proud of himself for… doing the things he was doing to you.” His face twisted as he spoke the words. Like it pained him to say them.

I stared at him.

“’You just have to break them’ he said, as if he had invented… the next big thing. I told the bastard he didn’t deserve a woman like you if he thought he was in any way entitled to any of that shit. I slapped the shit out of him and he told me he’d call the police if I ever got close to him again. Like he was the fucking victim!”

I frowned. What was he talking about? “When did you even talk to him?”

“Remember when you puked all over the floor in your café? I took you home and there he fucking was, waiting for you. You were out cold and he all but dry humped you in front of me!”

I gritted my teeth. “Why… why didn’t you ever mention…?”

“Would you have wanted me to mention it?”

I swallowed and shook my head.

I had let Micah walk all over me for years, serving to his every whim… and then, when I had dared to refuse to suck him off one fucking time, after I had had a real shit day and a headache on top, he had simply kicked me out.

That had been like a wakeup call. It hadn’t even taken me long to realize what he had been doing to me: Let me live in his flat, rent free, in exchange for acting as his own personal fuckdoll.

I turned away. I didn’t want to see the pity on Negan’s face. So many of my friends and even my parents had left me because I hadn’t wanted to see what they had been telling me, that Micah was using me, but they had all been right, of course. And I had been the idiot, defending my own tormentor.

“Why are you mentioning this now?” I whispered.

“Because I want you to know I understand why you didn’t want that little fuck to touch you!”

I swallowed. I hadn’t even made that connection. But… Negan was right.

I turned to look at Mario. He had been just a kid who had wanted to explore something he hadn’t seen before. There was just the little problem that I had promised myself I’d never let any man treat me like an object ever again…

Fucking shit!

I buried my face in my hands.

Negan stepped closer and put his arm around me.

“No,” I stepped away from him. I couldn’t have him touch me right now.

“How many times did you wish you’d just cut your fucking ex like that, back when everything was normal? Admit it,” Negan said, “Now, you can just do stuff like that! You think anyone’s gonna give a shit about that sick, little fuck?”

I looked at him. Was he serious?

A small noise from Mario made me turn towards him.

He had sunken down into himself. Was he dead? I questioningly looked at Negan, who took a few careful steps towards Mario… and stopped.

Mario’s head snapped upwards and he slowly got to his feet, his limbs moving jerkily. His eyes weren’t human any longer.

How had that happened? He hadn’t been bitten. My knife…

Shit, I’d have to be more careful…

Negan reached for his bat.

I turned away, while he took care of Mario.

We maneuver him outside through the crack, leaving a trace of blood and gore in our wake.

Yes. This was what my life was now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I was writing this, I wondered how probable a thing like that (a kid, living by himself, all alone in a cave) happening would really be... then I remembered how often that exact thing happened on Criminal Minds and was like "yea, go with it"  
> So, here you have it...


	4. Made for Each Other

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After last night's relevations, things are a bit.. off between Negan and Alana. But Life has to go on and they have to continue their journey, getting to know each other... more intimately (FINALLY :P)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry about what happened to Mario in the last chapter, but i swear it just happened. I hadn't planned for it to go that way, but you know how it is with writing... sometimes, characters just take on their own life...

It had gotten dark outside and the rain had let off a bit. We had enough dry wood inside the cave for a couple of days. Also, some supplies Mario must have gathered over the summer. We could stay here for a while, in theory.

In practice, this was far too creepy. I didn’t even want to spend the night. Mario had left a puddle of blood in the very back. The water that dripped from the ceiling mixed with it and washed away in a pale rivulet, through a narrow gap in the back wall. A young child, or a very slim adolescent, may be able to get through to whatever lay behind. Negan and I surely wouldn’t… and I hoped nothing that might live down there got through either.

After Negan’s revelation, I felt humiliated. He knew how long I had been together with Micah. He knew how long I had allowed him to treat me… the way he had treated me. How stupid must Negan even think I was?

Was that why he had wanted to take me along? So he had someone to fuck?

I didn’t want to let him close to me. It felt wrong. He had invaded my privacy in a way I couldn’t quite put into words. And even though it wasn’t his fault Micah had told him – oh god, how many more of his friends had he told about his neat little “trick”? – I kind of hated Negan for knowing how stupid I had really been.

And I felt dirty for how I had acted with him last night, flirting shamelessly…

I took first watch, since I wouldn’t be able to sleep anyways, and kept on tormenting myself until I felt it was time to wake up Negan. He got up from where he had slept and offered me the warmed spot.

+++

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” I asked when I had lain on the ground for a while, trying to fall asleep.

Negan took a deep breath. “Because I wanted to preserve your dignity,” he said.

“But then, why tell me now?”

“Because you killed a guy… and you’d keep on tormenting yourself over it. You’re good at that shit. I know you.”

I sighed.

+++

I was cold and stiff and my neck hurt. The fire was still burning but my bones felt cold. The ground was cold. Everything was cold. Shivering, I sat up and hugged myself. Negan put my poncho around my shoulders. It was dry and warm.

“Fucking hell, I never thought I’d miss my cot,” I muttered.

“Good morning to you too,” Negan said with a smirk.

“Well I mean… sleeping on the ground is bad enough, but sleeping on rock… fuck,” I rolled my shoulders.

“It stopped raining,” Negan reported. “We can leave.”

I stiffly crawled towards the fire on all fours, flexing my fingers against the fire.

Negan sat down next to me, close but not quite touching. He had put his jacket back on and I knew he would be warm and soft underneath it. It wasn’t his fault Micah had been a fucking asshole. Negan hadn’t betrayed me. He had just… tried to protect me in his own way. I should be thankful for the way he had acted, not resent him for it.

I moved towards Negan and unzipped his jacket, half crawling inside with him and soaking up his warmth, sighing pleasantly.

He wrapped his arms around me.

I wanted to apologize… but…

“You’re doing what needs doing,” Negan beat me to it, “I respect that in people. Lucille was the same.”

“Was she?” I whispered.

“Yea… tough as shoe leather but soft where it counted…” He sighed deeply. “What I want to say is this: we all got our past. It shaped us. That’s how humans are. Don’t you ever feel bad about it!”

“I never realized you were such a deep thinker,” I whispered.

“I’m not a deep thinker, I’m a naturally smart fucker,” he laughed.

“Yea, you are.” I snuggled against him deeper, wondering how his past had shaped him; to what lengths he would go to defend himself, to defend me… And I felt very lucky for being with him and not with someone else. He made me confident we could get through this. The two of us against the rest of the world.

+++

The sun shone brightly, glittering through the branches and leaves overhead. Birds twittered and insects buzzed. If it wasn’t for the damp ground, you wouldn’t believe the weather could be any different than it was today.

We had wanted to bury Mario’s body, but it had vanished overnight. I didn’t want to think too hard about who or what had taken it.

Negan led us eastwards. He had never gone to his cabin through the woods but was confident he’d be able to find it anyways.

“How hard can it be?” he muttered.

I was glad he was confident, because I sure was not. I already saw us wander around the forest all day and then end up sleeping on the ground because we didn’t find it and being eaten by wolves or zombies or whatever else roamed the woods.

Negan had told me all about the ergonomic mattress in his bed and my back craved it. How had people ever lived without the comforts of modern age?

We found a sunny spot and ate the last of our food around midday.

Negan was positive he’d still stored a couple cans of baked beans and whatnot in the cabin. To add to that, we could go raid the store in the small town closest to it.

I just hoped no one had beat us to it.

It was fall now. Winter would be coming soon. We needed supplies.

With the amount of zombies we had seen so far, I doubted this whole situation would blow over quickly. I didn’t want to think much further than tomorrow, but we had to if we wanted to survive.

Knowing Negan, his cabin would be alright to stay in for the time being, but what after that?

“You look anxious,” Negan observed.

“I am.”

He nodded. “It’s a whole fucking load of shit.”

I couldn’t have said it better.

I had taken Mario’s shotgun before we’d left. I’d never shot a gun before and I didn’t think I’d be able to hit anything without hurting myself, but Negan had assured me it was almost impossible not to hit something with a shotgun.

“Come on, try hitting that tree over there. Aim for the knot,” Negan said.

“Do I have to?”

“You don’t want your first time shooting anything be when you’re actually shooting to kill! You gotta get used to your weapon. Recoil’s a fucking bitch, I’m warning you!”

I swallowed. “What if I draw zombies towards us?”

Negan shrugged. “We’ll deal with them.”

“You’re awfully confident.”

“You should try it.” He grinned at me broadly.

I made a face at him and lifted up the gun, looking at him questioningly about how to properly hold it.

Negan stepped behind me and adjusted my grip. “Now don’t try to aim, just look at your target,” he said, his face close to my ear.

I frowned at him.

“Trust me.”

“How do you even know how to shoot?” I muttered, trying to get the gun to aim where I was looking.

“My father insisted on killing his own turkey every thanksgiving,” he chuckled. “Made me come along as soon as I could hold a gun. You ready?”

I nodded.

“Prepare for the recoil,” he whispered, taking his hands away so I was holding the gun by myself.

I focused on my target and pulled the trigger.

The recoil made me take a step backwards, straight into Negan. My shoulder pounded, my ears rang, but there was a huge ass hole in the tree. A little higher up than I had wanted it to go, but damn!

I looked at Negan over my shoulder before stepping towards the tree and touching the hole I had made. “Fuck!” I muttered, grinning broadly. The wood was slightly warm to the touch.

Negan watched me proudly. “Told you you’d like it.”

“It’s… wow!” I grinned, rubbing my shoulder.

“You hurt?” Negan asked.

I was wearing a flannel shirt today and he pulled it to the side to reveal my clavicle. His fingers on my skin made me all but forget about the gun I was still holding. I wanted… more.

“I think I’m alright,” I breathed, licking my lips.

Negan looked at me and let go of my shirt. “Try again,” he said, his voice sounding deeper than normal. “You only got two shots before you’ll have to reload. You gotta make them count.”

He stepped behind me again, adjusting my hands, pressing himself against me a little closer than strictly necessary. Was he… hard?

I pulled the trigger and the shot went wide, hitting the tree behind the one I had been aiming for.

Negan snorted.

“Your fault for distracting me,” I laughed.

“Distracting? Me? Never!”

“Well stop being so…” I hesitated, searching for the right word.

“… so what?”

“… so damn sexy…” I whispered. “It’s distracting!”

Negan stepped towards me, so close we almost touched. “Distracting, you say?” he muttered, his voice even deeper now. His hands wandered around my waist and downwards.

“Yes, distracting,” I breathed. My throat was tight with… desire. I dropped the gun and let my arms wander around him as well, looking at his chest.

One of his hands moved towards my chin to make me look up at him. I reached up to brush my hand through his hair, but stopped myself when I noticed his gaze going to something over my head.

“Shit,” he muttered, stepping away from me.

I turned as well and saw three zombies coming towards us.

“Reload,” he calmly said, taking my gun from the ground.

Was he serious? He wanted me to try my newfound skills NOW? When there were… My fingers were shaky as I tried to push the shells into the chamber. I dropped one, but snapped the gun shut anyways. I held it like Negan had shown me and looked where I wanted to shoot. The spot right between the eyes. I aimed the gun a little lower than I thought I should and pulled the trigger.

The top of the zombie’s head vanished in a pink cloud.

What the actual fuck.

“Reload,” Negan muttered again. The other two zombies didn’t even seem to take notice of their companion’s demise. They just kept on moving towards us.

Negan aimed his pistol and shot the closer one.

“Other one’s yours,” he calmly said.

I swallowed and shakily pushed two new shells into the chamber. Lifting up the gun, I aimed and, since the zombie was really close by now, I just pulled the trigger… shooting away its neck. With the support of the spine gone, the head dangled forwards awkwardly, but the zombie still came walking towards us.

What the fuck!

I took a step backwards and stumbled over a rock, falling on my ass, gun still in hands. “I got it,” I said, before Negan could step in. I aimed and shot and hit the dangling head.

Some of the pink mist sprayed in my face.

I groaned.

It was cold and smelled like nothing I wanted on my face. Shuddering, I dropped my gun and wiped my face on my sleeve.

“Three shots for two of those walking nightmares? That’s fucking amazing for a beginner!” Negan exclaimed, pulling me to my feet.

My whole body shook with the adrenaline coursing through my veins. My teeth chattered and my shoulder pounded where the recoil had hit hardest.

“Don’t you black out now! You’re pale,” Negan joked, gripping my arm.

“Yea, it… Damn, that was fun!” I grinned at him.

“Come on, before more fun comes along.”

I took up my backpack and the one shell I had dropped and hung the shotgun over my shoulder.

“You’re looking like a proper adventurer now… except for the purple backpack,” Negan teased.

“I like purple!”

“I noticed,” he chuckled. Even back home he had always teased me about the purple accessories in my café. “You know what they say about purple though, do you?”

“Umm… no?”

“It’s the color of sexually unsatisfied women.”

For a moment I was speechless. “You’re… I… That… I’d be mad if that wasn’t true!”

He raised an eyebrow.

“I mean…”

We couldn’t talk for a while, as the terrain was going a bit steeper and we were both occupied with breathing hard and making sure we didn’t slip on the leafy ground.

“What were you saying before?” Negan prompted, once we had reached the top.

“I… Micah… he… we had a lot of sex, but… I don’t think he’s ever given me an orgasm.”

That made Negan stop and turn towards me. “How long were you fucking that dude?”

“A little over four years…”

“Holy fucking shit…”

I looked at the ground under my feet and moved past him silently.

“I didn’t want to offend you,” Negan said, putting his hand on my arm. “This is just… if he were standing before me right now, I’d cut his fucking balls of! What a fucking waste!”

I said nothing, just kept on putting one foot in front of the other. Negan let go of my arm and fell into step with me, silently.

“Love makes people blind,” I muttered.

“Seems like.”

The shrubs thinned before us and we looked over a valley. The wind peacefully brushed through treetops in all shades from green to orange to brown, with a few fiery red ones mixed in. So peaceful… It was beautiful.

Negan put his arms around my waist, threading it between my backpack and my back so he could come to rest on my hip. I allowed him to pull me against his side.

“I would love to change… your state of… dissatisfaction,” he muttered, looking out over the valley. His hand wandered a little deeper and his fingers slid into my back pocket.

I swallowed. “I… would like that too.”

He turned and put both arms around me. And this time we weren’t interrupted.

We kissed.

His lips were soft, his beard scratchy. He tasted… just like he smelled… like MAN. Like…

I gently nibbled his bottom lip. Micah had never liked that. I loved it. Negan seemed to like it too, if the noises he made were any indication.

His hands travelled down my back, cupping my ass and pulling me against him. His hardness made me whimper. But we couldn’t…

I pulled back.

“What’s wrong?” he breathed, his voice hoarse with desire.

“I’m not on birth control,” I whispered.

“I’ll make you come without even pulling down my pants,” Negan muttered, pressing himself against me once more. He was so hard… fuck… I wanted him, but…

His hands wandered to my front and he undid my belt and fly with skilled fingers. He let his hand slide inside and into my panties and quickly found my opening.

My knees buckled under me with the first brush of his fingers against me.

“Fuck, you’re wet…” he whispered, moving farther down and pushing his fingers deeper inside me.

I involuntarily spread my legs to give him better access.

Negan’s breathing came hard. “I’d fucking love to push my face between your legs right now,” he panted. “And eat you out until you come all around me…”

I whimpered.

“I’ll fucking do that tonight… until you beg me to stop…”

His thumb was quick on my clit while his fingers worked in and out of me. The mental image of what he was talking about, of having him between my legs, and the knowledge he WANTED to do this, he enjoyed this…

I grabbed hold of his arms or my knees would have given out under me. “Fuck, Negan…” I whimpered.

“You fucking like that, huh?” he panted, working my clit even harder.

I couldn’t put into words how much I liked what he was doing, so I kissed him, weakly, barely able to control my own body, and he kissed me back, hard. “Come for me!” he whispered, putting an arm around my waist to steady me.

I whimpered against him as my hips jerked, trying to follow the rhythm his fingers set. He would… make me come… right here, out in the open. This… no! I couldn’t…

“Stop,” I whispered.

“What?” Negan stopped moving, but his fingers remained inside of me.

“Please stop…”

He carefully pulled his fingers out of me, out of my pants, looking at me questioningly.

“What’s wrong?”

“I… I don’t know… this just feels… not wrong, but not right either.” I turned away from him. He wouldn’t understand. How could he, when I couldn’t even quite understand what I was feeling myself?

Negan stepped in front of me, watching me intently. I half expected him to start screaming at me, to call me names and to insult me…

I tensed when he moved towards me.

“Relax,” he whispered, voice soft. “It’s alright.”

“Is it?” I wanted to cry with how stupid I felt.

“Of course! Your body, your rules,” he said.

I swallowed. My legs were still quivering from… his techniques. “I just…,” I swallowed, my gaze fixed firmly on the tips of his boots. “I don’t feel like I… like I’m allowed to come.” That last came out as just a whisper.

He frowned. “Why the hell not?”

“I don’t know…” I really didn’t. I hadn’t even been aware I felt that way until I had just heard myself say it.

“Listen to me! Just because that fucker Micah treated you like shit doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to climax wherever and whenever and however often you want!”

“Stop being so nice to me!” I sniffled.

“Not gonna happen,” he teased. He made me look up at him with two fingers under my chin. “We’ll finish this another time, but we’ll finish it!,” he promised. “Let’s move on.”

We walked in silence for a while, moving down another slope.

“When have you last been out here?” I asked.

“It’s been a while…. Lucille and I, we used to spend every weekend out here, but when she died…” He took a deep breath. “I thought about selling it for a long time, couldn’t fucking bear the thought of being here without her, but… I couldn’t just sell it either. There’s too many memories in it. We… she was pregnant when she got sick. I think it might have happened up here…”

I took his hand. “I’m so sorry…” I whispered.

He shrugged. “I think It’s been a year at least, since I’ve been here.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

“Who knows!” he shrugged.

“Well, just… we’re obviously both fucked up, so… let me know?”

He stopped and looked at me, smiling unhappily. “Fuck yes, we are… It’s like we’re fucking made for each other.


	5. A Cabin and the Joys that come with it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After days of walking, Alana and Negan finally find the cabin. They greatly enjoy the pleasures that come with spending the night with someone they like.   
> And: Lucille gets her name!

A few excruciating hours later, we found Negan’s cabin. I had started doubting we ever would.

I was sure my feet must be bleeding. The uphill and downhill all day long and being watchful about rocks and leaves on the ground on top of never letting our guard down about zombies or other people was exhausting.

The cabin, when we walked up to it, looked completely deserted. A piece of wood from the edge of the roof had loosened and hung off the side, partially overgrown by vines, as were most of the walls. The rope on one side of the porch swing had snapped. The firewood that was piled up under the porch and against one of the walls had turned grey with age. The shutters were closed, the door locked, thankfully.

I kept a watchful eye on Negan as he unlocked the door. It must be painful for him to come here with me, as opposed to his beloved Lucille. The way he still talked about her, even though she had been gone for years made me want to weep. To have loved someone like that and have them taken away… No wonder he had felt lost…

The air inside the cabin was stale. The floor was dusty. Good thing the air was too damp for the dust to be kicked up. It had gotten dark outside again and cooled down significantly from the moment the sun had set, but we opened the windows nonetheless to let in fresh air.

There were three rooms in all. A big main room with a kitchen and dining area, a bedroom and a bathroom. There would even be power and running water if we turned on the generator outside.

It was arranged in such a way that the wood burning stove from the kitchen was right in the middle of the cabin, heating everything, including water for hot showers. Short showers, Negan emphasized, but hot nonetheless. And I fucking CRAVED a hot shower. I could smell myself, my hair looked like shit and had pinkish pieces of… something stuck to it, as did my clothes. I could barely believe the woman that stared back at me from the mirror was me.

Negan took a small radio, one of those clockwork things for emergencies from one of the cabinets and gave it a quick few turns. _“… citizens are advised to stay indoors and keep checking this frequency for further information. This is an emergency broadcast: coming from sources unknown at this point, a virus has infected large parts of the population. The virus makes the infected extremely aggressive and violent. Healthy citizens are advised to stay indoors and keep checking this frequency for further information. This is an emergency broadcast…”_ The message started from anew and the power in the radio ran out soon after.

The silence that followed was deafening.

So this was really happening. Everywhere, not just in our area.

I sat down and took a couple breaths. Hearing the news over the radio made this whole situation much more real than it had been before. More official.

Negan was the first to collect himself. “I’m gonna get some water,” he said. “There’s wood outside, but we don’t have fuel for the generator.”

“So there won’t be any showering?” I whispered.

He shook his head. “Spongebaths for now. You know how to make a fire?”

“I’ll try,” I muttered.

Making a fire looked easy in the movies. In real life it took much longer and involved much more getting soot from stove doors all over one’s arms and inhaling lungs full of smoke.

It took me a lot of matches but I managed in the end.

There had been a couple candles in the drawer with the matches. I placed them on the kitchen table so we wouldn’t be sitting in the dark once Negan came back.

The cans in the kitchen cabinets were dusty and I was pretty sure I had disturbed a million spiders while stirring through them, but there was food and even ground coffee; the cabin was slowly warming up and we would get to sleep in a bed tonight.

The world was alright.

I had been closing the shutters and windows when Negan came back with two buckets of water and a bloody scratch on his face.

“What happened?” I cried out.

“Some fucker put a bunch of barbed wire around the spring,” he muttered, angrily putting down the buckets.

“Let me have a look,” I said and made him sit down by the kitchen table and take off his jacket.

“It’s nothing,” he waved me off.

“Yea, but if it gets infected you’ll have a scar… and we can’t have that handsome face scarred, can we?”

That made him smile. “So you think me handsome, huh?” He pulled me down to sit on his lap, my legs dangling down on his side.

“Who in their right mind wouldn’t?” I grinned, carefully disinfecting the scratch.

He closed his eyes and let me work away.

I took my time, cleaning the scratch and letting my fingers trail over his eyebrows and cheeks and jawline, enjoying how different his face felt in each spot. At last, I moved close and kissed him on the lips, gently. “All done,” I muttered.

Never in my live had I thought I’d kiss a man like him. Smart, handsome, a sense of humor and so honest it sometimes hurt. I let my hands move through his hair and down behind his ear and over his chest.

“Mhhhhhhh,” he made, his eyes still closed.

“You like that?” I whispered.

“Mhmm!” he agreed.

I changed my seat so I straddled him and kept on caressing him, kissing, licking, biting… until I felt something hard press against me from below.

“You really like that!” I grinned.

“Who in their right mind wouldn’t?” he repeated my earlier words, opening his eyes.

I reached down between us and let my hand move over his erection, tracing the outline of his dick through his jeans.

He moaned softly, pulling me close for another deep kiss.

His greedy mouth against mine made me crave… more. I wanted to undress him and see him and taste every part of him. I moved off the chair and to the ground so I kneeled before Negan, hands wandering up over his thighs and towards the buckle of his belt.

“Much as I hate to stop you…” he cleared his throat, “I need a wash first...”

“Are you sure?” I whispered, letting my hand move over him again, applying some pressure.

He moaned softly and his eyes fluttered closed for a few seconds. “Damn you, woman! Will you stop?”

I chuckled. “Well, if you really want me to…”

Negan got to his feet. “I haven’t had a shower in three fucking days… and I’ve worn those same pants night and day…” He extended his hand to pull me to my feet as well.

“Alright, alright, I get it,” I stepped close and let my hands wander around him.

“But after that…” He kissed the corner of my mouth and his hands slid down over my ass, greedily cupping it.

+++

A single candle as illumination, hot water from a cooking pot as opposed to a shower head, and a washcloth. Up to this day I had never even thought twice about how much engineering went into hot showers.

It was cold and almost dark in the bathroom. My pants were practically stuck to my legs as I peeled them off of me and I felt incredibly sticky all over.

I knelt down over the pot and unbraided my hair. Dipping my head into the water I tried to wash out the grease and dirt that had collected over the past few days with a bar of soap. Back home I wouldn’t have let normal soap even get to close proximity to my hair, but now… well, priorities changed.

I should probably feel exposed and insecure all by myself in a lone cabin in the woods, practically naked, but I didn’t. The little house had something about it that made me feel safe. Like it was an impenetrable stone fortress instead of an exposed wooden cabin.

The door opened and heavy footsteps came inside. The sound of the buckets being put down made me sure it was Negan who had entered and not some stranger and I stripped off my underwear, tossing it with my other clothes. The water was pleasantly warm and I rubbed myself off with the washcloth as well as possible, using liberal amounts of soap. Add brushed teeth and I felt like a new person.

I put on a t-shirt and a fresh pair of panties and stepped out of the bathroom, my hair wrapped in a towel.

Negan was sitting at the table, wrapping his bat in barbed wire by candlelight.

“Umm…” I made.

“More efficient that way,” he shrugged. “Look how beautiful she is…”

“She?” I frowned.

“Lucille.” He caressed the bat’s handle and looked her over, making sure the barbed wire sat firmly before he got up and moved towards me, putting his arms around me and cupping my butt. “You smell good,” he whispered, inhaling deeply.

“Yea… you don’t,” I teased.

“Like you mind…” He kissed me harder and I had to actively push him away before he started something else. “You wanted a wash,” I muttered.

I honestly wouldn’t have minded starting something with him. I’d have taken him unwashed and all, but I wanted him to feel good as well.

I sat down in his chair and eyed his bat and the wire. The wood had already soaked up a lot of blood and the color had visibly darkened. It definitely was quite something to look at… If he were to come at me with it…

“Let’s go to bed,” Negan suddenly said, kissing my neck.

I must have fallen asleep, sitting at the table.

“Why are you still out here?”

I yawned. “I wanted to wait for you…”

Laughing, Negan blew out all but one candle. “C’mon then.” He indicated his head towards the bedroom and took the one candle.

The white t-shirt and black boxers he had put on suited him amazingly well. His legs were long and muscular, topped by an ass you could probably crack nuts with. His front was equally nice to look at. The boxers were nicely filled out and his chest was flat and broad. The T-shirt did nothing to hide that.

A big bed with thick blankets and soft looking pillows bed took up most of the bedroom. I watched Negan place the candle on the nightstand, standing by the foot edge of the bed.

“What are you waiting for?” he asked, turning towards me.

“Just enjoying the show,” I grinned, shamelessly looking him up and down.

Smirking, Negan walked towards me. He let his arms wander around my waist and moved in to whisper something in my ear: “Get into bed.” He playfully shoved me onto the bed.

“Ass,” I laughed, moving upwards a little so I could lie down properly. “Fuck…” I moaned, stretching languidly. The mattress felt ridiculously good under my back. I didn’t even want to move to get under the blanket.

Negan chuckled and climbed on top of me on all fours, kissing me. “Anyone ever tell you you got a mouth like a sailor?”

Laughing, I wrapped my arms and legs around him. “I thought you liked that.”

“I do.” He kissed my neck. “So very much…” He rubbed his crotch against me.

I sighed, rolling my head to the side, yawning.

Soft kisses on my neck and shoulder and ear awoke me. Gentle fingers brushed my hair to the side to better reach my skin.

I sighed. “Morning.”

“Good Morning,” Negan whispered, breath hot against my skin. “You awake?”

“Mhmm,” I made, rolling to my back to return his caresses.

He put his arms around me and let his hand travel under my shirt. He was rock hard against my hip as he let his hand wander upwards.

I sighed deeply when he cupped my breast from below, his thumb softly moving over my nipple. “Did we… last night?”

Negan shook his head. “Had to finish all by myself…” He climbed on top of me with a groan, pushing my shirt upwards.

I half sat up, so he could pull it over my head. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he whispered, eyeing me up and down before he bent his arms to apply his mouth to my breast, tongue quickly flicking over my nipple.

“Hmmnnngh” I whimpered, holding on to him with both arms.

I wanted him closer, inside of me…

Fuck.

We didn’t have any condoms.

Negan pushed himself up again and moved downwards over me, hooking his fingers into the waistband of my panties and pulling them down over my hips.

My thighs quivered in anticipation as he put his knees between mine, spreading me open before him.

“I’m going to give you the best fucking orgasm of your life,” he softly said, kissing my stomach. “And I’m not gonna stop before you come, you understand me?”

I swallowed. I wanted him to do whatever he was planning to do, but…

“You understand me?” he repeated.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Good! Because I want to see you fucking fall apart under me.”

My teeth chattered. Damn, I wanted him so badly…

He kissed me on the mouth once more and then moved downwards.

It was cool in the room and I was about to reach for my blanket, when Negan found my opening with his fingers, teasing my edges, tracing the lines of my body. “Mhhhhhmmm…” My eyes fluttered closed.

He put my feet up against his shoulders so I lay completely open before him. His eyes were greedy as he looked down at me.

I resisted the urge to try to cover up. He… seemed to like what he saw. That knowledge was enough to make me whimper.

“Fucking shit,” Negan whispered, biting his bottom lip.

And then he dove down.

His mouth meeting my flesh made me cry out. My back arched against him and I reached down to his head with one hand, digging my fingers into the thick strands. His head bobbing over me was so erotic, his tongue inside of me, his beard scratching my tender flesh, it made it hard to think.

He came up for air and looked at me, our gazes meeting.

I whimpered, but didn’t find the capacity in my brain to say anything, as he dove down again.

His hands moved up over my inner thighs towards his face, towards my opening and whatever it was he did, it felt amazing. There were so many sensations…

My hips jerked against his face.

My legs wanted to spread apart even farther so he could get in even deeper. More, deeper, harder…

As if he had read my mind, he did the same thing again, doubling the sensation. The pressure inside of me doubled as well.

I would orgasm if he kept this up for another minute.

I knew it and yet…

I was scared of letting loose completely… What if I didn’t do it right? What if… Suddenly I was scared.

“Relax,” Negan whispered.

“What?” I barely managed to bring out the one word.

“You’re cramping all up. Relax,” he repeated, slowly moving up on top of me.

I whimpered. His fingers were still inside of me and he slowly moved them, flicking them over my spot.

It took a conscious effort to loosen my muscles.

“Yea, like that,” he said, kissing me deeply, moving his fingers another bit.

Tasting myself on him felt so dirty and so fucking great at the same time.

“I could do this all damn day,” he whispered, speeding up his movements as if to underline his words.

I closed my eyes, whimpering.

“You wouldn’t believe how many times I fucking imagined just this when jacking myself off.”

“Really?” The thought of him thinking of me while touching himself…

“Fuck yea… and the real deal is a million times better… you taste like fucking nectar…” He bent down again and licked me from back to front, spreading me with his tongue. “Turn around,” he whispered.

“What? But…”

“Just turn… you’ll love this! Trust me.”

Trust him… I did trust him. He wouldn’t do anything to… I shakily rolled over and got on my hands and knees.

Negan bent over me and gently bit my ass, before applying himself to… my butthole.

It felt so wrong and yet so… My arms gave out under me with the sensation. “Holy shit…” I cried out.

“See,” Negan whispered. His breath was hot against my lower back as he kissed me and spread me apart with his hands. He tended to my clit with his fingers and everything farther back with his mouth and tongue and teeth. It was too much. I couldn’t do this.

“Stop,” I whimpered.

He stopped moving. “Why?”

“It’s… I can’t bear it… it’s too much.”

“What if I don’t want to stop?” he asked, gently biting my ass again.

“I…”

“What if I won’t stop until eating you out and fingering you and licking your fucking asshole makes me cum?”

My teeth chattered. “I… don’t know…”

“And in the meantime, if you climax as well… that’s your fucking problem, not mine…” He bit me again, closer to my center this time. “I’m doing this purely for my own entertainment…”

I whimpered. His tongue slid over the very outer edge of my opening. Fuck, this felt so good! “O…okay, I think I can…” He pushed his finger into me again. “I can...” The last word turned into a moan as his mouth met my flesh once more.

My elbows gave out under me and my face pressed into the pillows, which was just as well, because it gave me something to muffle my moans.

“You should see yourself right now,” Negan whispered. “Like a fucking goddess…” He pushed his fingers back into me and reached around my body to find my breasts where they hung over the mattress. I felt so… dirty, the way he had me under him… so completely at his mercy… “Mhhh… fuck…” I whimpered. “More… please…”

“You want more?” Negan whispered, biting my neck.

“Yes… mhhhhmmmm…”

He moved his fingers and whatever it was he did… it was the amount of MORE I needed.

“Oh god yes!” My toes spasmed and then my whole legs and for a moment that felt like an eternity and at the same time like a tenth of a second, I completely lost control. My insides cramped around his fingers.

I sunk down, my legs sliding out from under me, my face pressing into the pillow, soaking up my tears.

My body was shaking and jerking with aftershocks, as Negan pulled the blanket over me and wrapped himself around me from behind, kissing my shoulderblade.

“Why are you crying?” he whispered.

“I don’t know…” I truthfully answered.

“But you’re alright?”

I nodded. “Yes.” I couldn’t put into words how alright I felt. “Do… do you want me to… finish you off?”

He snorted. “Another time… seeing you fucking fall apart… I finished just fine.”

“Really?” I moved just enough so I could see his face.

He nodded.

Another bout of tears squeezed from my eyes.

He pulled me against him and held me close. “It’s alright,” he muttered against my hair and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “Shhhh… It’s alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, umm, yea... FINALLY, am I right?


	6. Getting Groceries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After... getting to know each other better in the last chapter, Alana feels somewhat embarassed for what happened between them.   
> Negan, of course, keeps his cool.   
> They walk down to town to go shopping and meet an old friend.

When we got up a while later, I felt crazy embarrassed. What I had let him do to me… it was… I could barely look Negan in the eye when I stepped out into the kitchen, fully dressed. Letting him see me with anything less than shirt and pants seemed impossible.

I took the cup of coffee he handed me without meeting his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, noticing my unease, of course.

“Nothing,” I whispered, taking the cup and sitting down at the kitchen table. My nether regions were still overly sensitive and I winced.

Negan sat down opposite me, a smirk on his face that made me wish the ground would just up and swallow me.

The ground, of course, didn’t have my back. It never did.

My coffee though was there for me. It definitely wasn’t the best I’d ever had, it wasn’t even really good at all, but it was coffee! Black and strong. After three days of withdrawal, that was worth something.

“The town is about two hours walk,” Negan said, when I wouldn’t say anything.

Thankful we were talking about something neutral, I nodded at him. “What should we get?”

“Whatever’s left over… or do you want to make a grocery list?” he teased.

“No, I just… wanted to make sure we didn’t forget anything.”

“Like condoms you mean?” He let his gaze travel over me.

I blushed. Condoms… so we could… I focused back on my coffee.

“What’s wrong? Didn’t you like what we did?”

I swallowed. “No… it’s just…” I took a breath and shook my head. “Forget about it… It doesn’t matter.” I’d get over it.

“Tell me,” he said, taking my hand over the table.

I wanted to pull away, but he held on to my fingers.

“Did I do anything wrong?”

I wanted to laugh. Wrong… What he had done was among the most right things I had ever experienced! It had been glorious… and yet… “’s embarrassing,” I mumbled.

Negan raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Just…” I vaguely gestured with my free hand, “the… thing… and you… and everything…”

He caught my second hand and stared at me.

I focused on the table between us. The texture was very interesting all of a sudden.

Negan didn’t move.

Neither did I. Was the whole table made from one solid piece of wood?

He finally gave in and moved two fingers under my chin, so I had to look at him.

“You… you licked my… asshole,” I whispered the last word because it was so embarrassing.

“So?”

“That’s… “

“You enjoyed it, far as I could tell…” His voice remained perfectly calm and even.

“Yes…”

“I did too, so where’s the problem?”

“I don’t know… it’s just…”

“Two consulting adults enjoying each other’s bodies.” He shrugged. “Nothing wrong with that!”

“But I… I don’t know…” I sighed, turning my head to the side so I didn’t have to look him in the eyes.

“Tell you what’s wrong: that fucker Micah fucked you up in your head so badly you can’t even allow yourself to enjoy the simplest of all pleasures!”

“Stop analyzing me!”

“Sorry,” he let go of me and got up. “We don’t have to do it again… or fuck,” he shrugged. “We don’t even have to kiss ever again, if you don’t want to. I’m not going to force myself on you…”

“But… I DO want to… kiss you and… to touch you and… I want to see you naked and taste you and make you come… And I want you to fuck me.”

He chuckled. “I know.”

I groaned. This was impossible. Didn’t he understand how hard this was for me? “I’m not supposed to want this…”

“You’re not?” He raised an eyebrow.

I blinked. Had I really just said that? Was that really what I was thinking? Why the hell was I thinking like that? “Apparently,” I slowly said.

Negan nodded. “Yea, you might wanna think that through again.” He got to his feet and moved around the table, kissing my temple. “Come on, let’s go before the crowds get too thick.”

+++

The march to the town was almost pleasant, as long as I kept my thoughts away from what we had done just an hour ago.

The air was cool, the sun warm. Our backpacks were empty and our bellies full from a meal of canned ravioli. Not the classical breakfast food maybe, but this was the apocalypse. We could forget about conventions every once in a while.

+++

We encountered the first zombies before we even saw the first houses. Negan had worked on Lucille some more before we’d left and was obviously eager to try her out. He started towards the zombies and practically beheaded the two with one hit each.

“Fuck yes,” he muttered, looking at the bloody bat, caressing the hilt.

There had been no way of telling how many zombies there might be in the town, so we had each brought our weapons. I hoped it didn’t come to us having to fight, but…

… my hopes were in vain.

At least 50 zombies walked up and down on the main street in groups or alone, giving it an air of a normal small town on a busy shopping day. Only when one took the time to look closer, one realized the way those shoppers moved wasn’t quite right.

“How far to the store?” I whispered.

If even one of those zombies noticed us, we were in deep shit. If they decided to come after us… we were fucking dead!

“Too far,” Negan answered, thoughtfully shaking his head. We had climbed the roof of a house to scope out the situation and could overlook much of the main street from here.

“You think we can make it close enough if we move over the roofs?” I whispered. “Or side streets?”

Negan shook his head no. “Fucking shit,” he exclaimed, hitting the chimney with his bat.

A zombie down on the street noticed the sound and looked up at us, groaning excitedly, insofar as a zombie was able to do anything excitedly. Others joined in and soon the house we stood on was the center of attention of all the zombies down below.

They were climbing over each other in their desire to get to us. It was only a matter of time till they made it. A hill directly behind the house made the back corner easy to reach from the ground. We had found the easy access spot and the zombies would find it as well. It was only a question of time.

Fuck!

We could get to the next house from our roof, but if we managed, that meant the zombies would manage as well.

Could we get inside the house? And then make a run for it? I took a look down the chimney. How the myth of Santa getting in through there to bring the presents had ever started remained a mystery. It was much too narrow for either of us to fit.

The first hand grabbed the edge of the roof.

I stepped towards it and stared at the wide opened maw for a second, before stomping on the fingers as hard as I could.

They were severed over the edge and the attached zombie toppled down with no way to hold on any longer.

The next hand gripped the ledge and I stepped towards it again.

“We’ll jump,” Negan muttered from behind me, “and then make a run for it…”

“We’ll break our legs.”

“Better than being eaten by those fuckers! Come on, there’s only a few on the other side!”

I followed him.

He didn’t hesitate to let himself down over the edge of the roof, holding on with both hands so the fall wouldn’t be as deep.

I sat down by the edge and took a few deep breaths, summoning up the courage for my next move.

From down below came the telltale sound of Negan smashing heads. “Hurry up!” he hissed.

I slipped off the edge just as he had done it, but wasn’t strong enough to hold myself properly. I dropped to the ground almost without a break and landed on my ass, groaning, as my tailbone protested and all the air was pressed out of my lungs. “FUCK!” I hissed through gritted teeth, blinking away the tears that had shot from my eyes.

“Get up!” Negan took my hand and pulled me to my feet.

My spine protested, as did my lungs, but I stumbled after him anyways. To stop now meant certain… undeath. But damn, did I hurt.

Most of the zombies that had been wandering the streets earlier were gathered on the other side of the house. The few we encountered, we easily stabbed and smashed, respectively.

We ran down the length of the main street and then took a left at its end. Maybe it would be enough if we were out of sight of the zombies.

We couldn’t wait to find out of course.

Negan ran up through the yard of the closest house, his long legs eating away the distance like nothing, and rattled the front door.

It was locked.

We didn’t have time to find another way inside. I tried the house opposite the street while Negan remained on the other side.

The third door I tried, was pulled open so quickly I almost fell inside. A shotgun was shoved into my face, an old lady behind it.

“Don’t shoot please,” I panted, lifting up my hands and looking behind my back to where Negan was running from more zombies. “Please let us come in! We’re not bitten! I swear!”

The old lady looked me up and down and then called into the house: “Simon! We got visitors!” She stepped aside to let me in, broadly smiling at me. Negan followed me a moment later, shutting and locking the door behind him.

I wanted to drop to the ground on my ass and hyperventilate for a while, but my ass still hurt from my earlier stunt, so standing between Negan and the old lady, hyperventilating and hugging myself would have to do.

Outside, zombies groaned, sounding much closer than I liked to think they were.

It was almost dark in the hallway due to all the windows being nailed shut. I squinted, as a guy, as tall as Negan, but much scrawnier, stepped into the hallway. “You’re not supposed to let in strangers, Grandma,” he scolded.

“I know, but she seemed like a nice girl and her friend is really handsome,” the old lady said.

“I’m sorry,” I blurted out. “We got caught up outside and…”

“Simon?” Negan muttered from behind me.

“Shit, Negan? What are you doing out here?”

“What does it look like we’re doing?” Negan sarcastically asked. “What the shit happened to your face? I almost didn’t recognize you with the mustache! You lost a bet there buddy?”

Simon snorted. “The ladies love it,” he said, twirling the tips of his beard, looking me up and down. “Shit, I didn’t think you were still alive! I heard it was bad in the city!” He took a step towards Negan and they embraced, clapping each other’s backs.

“Grandma, this is my friend Negan! He was here for one of our BBQs with his wife a couple years ago, remember? You liked her!”

Grandma adjusted her glasses and squinted at Negan then at me, then back at Negan.

“Come on into the kitchen,” Simon said. “You want a drink?”

“Fuck yes,” Negan agreed.

“And some tea for you, deary?” Grandma asked. “I’m sorry I don’t remember your name, my mind isn’t what it used to be.”

“I… I’m not… I haven’t been here before,” I said. “Negan’s wife died a few years ago. My name’s Alana.” I offered her my hand and she took it, eyeing me curiously.

“You can call me Granny Smith,” she said. “Everyone does.”

We followed the men into the kitchen. The windows were nailed shut as well, but an old fashioned oil lamp sat on the table, illuminating the room a bit. “Make the girl some tea, Simon,” Granny Smith said.

“I’d rather have a drink as well, if that’s alright,” I admitted.

“Oh I forget women are drinking too, nowadays!” She moved to help her grandson in the kitchen.

“Sit down Grandma,” Simon said, ushering her to a chair with a soft looking pillow on it and giving her a kiss as she sat down. “I have everything under control.”

“Sit, girl, sit,” Granny Smith said, pointing me to the chair next to her. Negan had taken the one opposite her.

“I’d rather not,” I admitted. “I… fell off a roof earlier, landing on my… bum.”

“Oh what adventures you young people get up to,” Granny Smith said. “Simon, do get her some peas from the icebox, will you?”

“Icebox is out, Grandma,” he patiently explained. “We put everything that needs cooling in the cellar. I’ll get you something in a minute.”

Negan got up. “I’ll go. I remember where it is.”

“Thank you deary!” Granny Smith said, looking after him fondly. “Some days I’m glad my eyes are still working just fine,” she whispered.

I snorted.

Simon put three glasses of something amber colored on the table. “Tea will be ready in a minute,” he said to his grandma.

“Oh if everyone drinks, I’ll have a drink as well,” she said, smiling happily. “This is a happy occasion after all, no? Why don’t you sit down, deary?” she said, patting the chair next to her.

“I’m sorry” Simon said, “She just… forgets…”

“It’s okay,” I muttered.

Negan stepped back into the kitchen. “One bag of half thawed beans,” he said, putting it down on the chair next to him.

I carefully sat and closed my eyes for a second. It hurt, but the ice felt nice.

“I would have caught you, but…” Negan started.

“You were otherwise occupied… don’t worry,” I muttered. “We survived, all’s good!” I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze on the table.

Simon put a fourth glass in front of his grandma and sat down with us. “Let’s drink to…”

“…to young love,” Granny Smith said, lifting her glass towards Negan and me.

We clinked glasses and took a deep swig each. I didn’t know if what Negan and I had was love, but I didn’t have it in me to correct her.

The booze burned in my throat and I coughed. I wasn’t used to drinking hard alcohol.

“Bring the egg liquor, won’t you, Simon? This is a men’s drink.” Granny Smith said, downing the rest of her glass.

“Just make sure you don’t get handsy with Negan, Grandma,” Simon teased.

“Oh you,” she chuckled, hitting the air next to him. “It’s not my fault you have such handsome friends.”

“I’m not worried,” Negan said. “I have Alana to protect me.” He was still holding my hand and lifted it up to his mouth to kiss my knuckles.

It was fascinating how we had been running for our lives a few minutes ago and now we were joking with a sweet old lady and her grandson, ignoring the groaning zombies outside.

“Oh aren’t they such a handsome couple Simon? I always said so! And you must have such a beautiful son by now, no? You told me you were pregnant last time you were here, deary!”

I swallowed.

“Here’s your egg liquor, Grandma,” Simon saved me from having to say anything. “Just make sure she doesn’t have too much,” he whispered to me.

I nodded at him and took my glass from her fingers before she could down the rest of my whiskey. Negan took care of that for me and Granny Smith filled it with Egg Liquor instead.

“Bring the Family Photos, Simon, won’t you? I want to show your girlfriend what a sweet baby you were! What was your name again, deary?”

Simon sighed. “In a minute, Grandma,” he said.

“It’s Alana,” I patiently said. “Come on, we’ll get your Photos,” I said, helping her get up. “Let the men sit with their booze, we’ll make ourselves comfortable on the sofa.”

Granny Smith eagerly nodded. Once she was on her feet, she was surprisingly agile, taking the bottle of egg liquor and her glass with her and leading the way to the living room.

A bed was made up in one corner, obviously Granny Smiths. Doilies covered every available surface, including the top of the flat-screen TV. “Do you crochet, dear?” Granny Smith said, heavily sitting down on the sofa.

“I’m afraid I don’t,” I admitted.

“Well, I would teach you, but I keep forgetting which stitches I already did and which I still need to do,” she said. “And I used to be such a good crocheter… Never you get old!” she said, wistfully looking towards the window. She was probably seeing something I couldn’t. Something more than the wooden boards that had been nailed over it.

I sat with Granny Smith for a while, looking through the Family Photos, doing my best to ignore the noises from the outside. The sofa cushions were soft enough to make sitting bearable.

“Please, dear, help me get into bed,” Granny Smith suddenly said, closing the Album she had held on her lap. “I’m very tired. It must be late! It’s so dark already…”

The big grandfather clock in the corner showed it was barely past three in the afternoon, but with the windows nailed shut, it was almost dark inside. The candles we had lit didn’t do a lot to change that.

I helped Granny Smith into bed and went back into the kitchen to join Negan and Simon. If we wanted to get back to the cabin, we would have to get to the grocery store soon.

“She’s sleeping,” I said to Simon, who looked at me questioningly.

“Thank you,” he said. “She’s getting worse every day, mixing up things, forgetting stuff… I don’t know where she keeps finding the key to open the front door. One of these days she’ll leave it open and get eaten by those fuckers.”

I shuddered at the thought.

We were young, we could run, we could build something new, but Granny Smith? Simon couldn’t leave here with or without her.

“What do you say, we stay the night and go get groceries tomorrow? Simon’ll come with us,” Negan suddenly said.

“You can take Grandma’s bedroom upstairs,” Simon offered.” She can’t get up and down the stairs anymore.”

“Umm… yes, sure,” I said. I would have felt bad, letting him alone with the old lady anyways.

“How’s your ass?” Negan asked, gently slapping it.

“Still hurts,” I muttered. “I hope I didn’t break anything…”

“I’ll check it later,” Negan said, making me sit down on his lap.

Simon laughed. “How’d you two meet?”

Negan told him the story of me and the café and him having secretly been in love with me for a while. It lifted my heart to hear him say it out loud to his friend. I still couldn’t believe he really cared for me in this way. Hearing it again felt good.

“So you’ve been together for what, three days?” Simon asked, destroying the romantic feeling that had been building up in my chest. “You fuck yet?”

I blinked at him. Was he serious?

“I mean… just in case Negan doesn’t… satisfy, I’m here as well!” he wiggled his eyebrows at me.

I wasn’t sure if he had meant to joke or not, but I sure as hell didn’t want to find out.

“You horny fuck,” Negan muttered, “always trying to screw everything with a heartbeat…”

His words had obviously been meant to make light of the situation, but I felt how his arms tensed around me. He was serious… at least partly.

“Just an offer,” Simon shrugged.

Yea, one I definitely wouldn’t be taking him up on. I gave Negan’s thigh a hopefully reassuring squeeze under me.

“How much have you been drinking?” I asked, trying to sound light.

“Too much, obviously,” Negan said, urging me to get up. “Did you nail the upstairs windows shut as well?” he asked Simon.

Simon shook his head.

“C’mon,” Negan said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there's ppl in the fandom who really like Simon... I'm not one of them. I mean... I like him as the asshole in my story, sooo... 
> 
> Also: I'm obviously too stupid to number my chapters, so this story will be 8 chapters instead of 6 as I initially thought.   
> After that, there'll be 2 more stories with about 10 chapters each, I'm guessing...


	7. Granny forgets Something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Negan and Alana are still at Simon's house.   
> Granny has trouble remembering things and sends Alana on a dangerous errand.

“I almost forgot what a fuckhead he is,” Negan muttered once we were in Granny Smith’s – our - bedroom. It was, if possible, even frillier than the living room downstairs, with pale rose colored bed spread and antique furnishings.

“You see that street over there?” Negan asked, pointing out through the window, completely ignoring the interior.

I nodded.

“Leads to the grocery store. Simon’s got a car we can use.”

“I… you know I would never… with him,” I said, stepping against Negan.

He nodded and put his arm around me.

“He’s kind of freaking me out,” I admitted.

“We can still leave if he makes you uncomfortable,” Negan offered.

I shook my head. “If he tries anything, I’ll show him where to get off,” I muttered, caressing the hilt of my hunting knife with a grin.

“Fuck you’re gorgeous, you know that?” Negan whispered against my neck, kissing me gently. “Like a fearless Amazon.”

“Amazon maybe, but fearless definitely not.” I rolled my head back to let him kiss my neck and closed my eyes. Negan’s free hand found my breast and he pulled down my tank top and bra, letting his thumb travel over my nipple.

I moaned softly.

“I could listen to you all fucking day.” His voice was hot against my skin and his hand moved downwards and unbuttoned my jeans.

Putting my hand on top of his, I stopped him before he could do anything more. “Not here… in Granny’s bedroom.”

“Then where?” Negan asked, kissing the corner of my mouth, kneading my other breast with his free hand.

“I…” I whimpered, “I don’t know.”

“I want you so fucking bad…” His voice was more a growl now than anything else. “I can’t stop thinking about this morning… the way you taste… let me just have a taste.”

“Just a taste,” I whimpered, letting go of his hand.

He dove into my pants so quickly I gasped, teasing me for just a moment and much too soon, withdrew again. On his way back upwards, he let his moistened fingers travel over my exposed breast, drawing a wet line on my skin, before he put them to his mouth and licked them like one would lick a popsicle.

Stepping around me, he bent down and applied his mouth to my breast, licking off the trail he had just drawn.

I sighed softly, but cut myself off when Simon suddenly spoke behind me.

“Grandma just woke up,” he said. “She wants to know if you’re alright with steak and potatoes for dinner.”

“Tell her we’ll be fine with whatever she wants,” Negan said, slowly getting up to his full height, so he could look at Simon over my shoulder.

I pulled up my top, feeling dazed from the sudden interruption. There was nothing I cared less about than dinner plans in this moment.

I turned around and Simon’s gaze fell to my unbuttoned pants.

Shit…

I buttoned up my pants and made sure I was decent, doing my best to act unbothered, before we went downstairs again. I couldn’t wait till we were out of this house an in our cabin again… where we wouldn’t be disturbed…

+++

Sleeping in that pink frilly flowery room felt odd. Having sex in a bed smelling of old lady and mothballs would have felt even worse, so we contented ourselves with snuggling and teasing and some very light petting.

The smell of coffee filled my nose in the morning and I didn’t waste any time to get up and get dressed and move downstairs.

Negan found the promise of a well-lit mirror more enticing and took the time to shave.

Granny Smith was already sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee before her.

“Can I have some too?” I excitedly asked.

Granny looked up at me. “What are you doing in our house, young lady?” She looked around in search of her shotgun and laboriously got to her feet.

“I’m Alana,” I softly said, putting a hand on her arm. “Your… grandson’s girlfriend! Remember? You showed me your family photos yesterday.”

“Did I?” she hesitated, but seemed to decide to believe me. “Well, I must have forgotten… do sit down, child! I would offer you some cake, but the oven doesn’t seem to be working”

“I don’t mind,” I said, “as long as there’s coffee, I’m alright!”

“Yes, me too… The pot is on the stove there, deary. My legs hurt so bad today, you’ll have to serve yourself.”

Negan came into the room, clean shaven and looking almost like he had back when everything had been normal. “Good Morning pretty, is your mother home as well?” he said to Granny Smith. “Do I smell coffee?”

“Oh you’re such a charmer Negan!” Granny teased. “Don’t let your wife hear you talk like that, where is she? Not still in bed?”

I poured Negan some coffee too and we sat down at the kitchen table.

“Simon and I talked,” Negan said. “We’ll go to the store… you’ll stay here with Granny Smith.”

I frowned. “Umm… alright?”

“It’s better that way. I won’t have to worry if I know you’re here safe.”

“Well, if you think…”

Negan nodded.

“Oh can you bring me some of those little cookies in the blue tin box?” Granny chimed in. “Simon always forgets about them.”

“Sure Granny. I’ll check if they have them. Anything else?”

“Umm… some… sanitary products would be nice,” I muttered.

“Oh dear, you can’t send a man to buy you that!” Granny blushed on my account. “They’ll be embarrassed.”

“Anything particular?” Negan asked, without raising an eyebrow.

I shook my head. “Just take whatever they have…”

“Will do,” he downed his coffee and got up to kiss me on the temple.

“And don’t forget condoms,” I whispered.

“I could never forget those…”

“Oh to be young and in love again,” Granny Smith muttered. Her hearing really seemed to be working quite well for someone her age.

+++

Negan and Simon left for the store soon after. There were still a lot of zombies outside, but Simon had a pistol as well as Negan and they had a couple boxes of bullets between them.

They seemed confident they would be able to defend themselves. Especially from the relative safety of Simons battered car.

I wasn’t normally one for praying, but I felt the irresistible urge to send a plea heavenwards to beg whoever heard me to bring Negan back safely. If anything happened to either Simon or him, I would be stuck here. I liked Granny well enough, but I had seen the bottles of pills in the downstairs bathroom. It was only a matter of time until she ran out. Things would probably turn south pretty soon after that…

“Why are you so quiet deary?” Granny Smith said.

“I’m just worried about Negan and Simon,” I muttered.

“Oh don’t be! They’re such young and strong boys! They’ll be back soon enough! Us women need to be glad we have such strong protectors, no?”

“Yes, of course,” I muttered, but my mind wasn’t any lighter.

“Would you mind helping me with the chickens while they’re out?”

“Chickens?” I hadn’t been aware of any chickens.

“Yes, in the back yard… The key to the back door is on that shelf. Simon always puts it up there, even though he knows I can’t reach it!”

I wasn’t sure if this was one of Granny’s more lucid moments or if she was talking about things long past. The key, in any case, really was up on the shelf she had indicated.

I opened the door just a crack and looked outside. There was a wooden fence around the back yard, about as high as Negan was tall, high enough no zombies had gotten over it so far. There also was a chicken coop. But I didn’t see any chickens.

“You just go collect all the eggs and I will watch your back,” Granny promised. She had gotten up and taken up her shotgun again.

Something about this felt off, even if I couldn’t quite make out what it was. It was just a normal back yard with vegetable beds and a hen house. There was nothing really dangerous out there. I could just check the coop and tell Granny there were no eggs and then go back inside. No biggie.

And I had my knife on my belt in any case. Everything was fine.

I took one last look at Granny and stepped outside, down the stairs onto the lawn.

“And out you stay!” Granny shouted, slamming the door closed and turning the key. “We don’t want no adulterers in this house! How dare you seduce a married man with your womanly wiles, you harlot!” she screamed.

What?

I turned around and looked at the door, blinking slowly. I wanted to shout back at her to open the door back up again, but zombies were already moaning and groaning outside the fence, probably made aware by her noise.

I had to be quiet so as not to agitate them any further.

Why did things like that always happen to me?

Screaming inwardly, I stomped on the ground a couple times, trying to get rid of my anger in a silent way. I could probably pry open the door given some time, but it would make noise and that would draw zombies. If enough of them wanted to get over the fence, they would!

Taking deep, even breaths, I started walking along the fence, making sure it was as sturdy as it looked.

Gunshots sounded in the distance. Was that Negan and Simon? Or someone else? Were they fighting zombies? Or humans? I wanted to run and join them, but no. I was locked in this fucking yard without even a weapon.

Thank you very much Granny. Thank you!

Now I was forced to wait for them to save me, on top of having to fight whoever they were fighting.

And If they didn’t come back, I might as well just kill myself.

How could I have been so stupid? Letting a senile lady lock me out of her house… fuck!

Huffing and puffing to myself I kept on moving through the yard.

When I passed the chicken coop I realized there really were chickens inside. The wire door was closed and I unhooked it to let them out. At least that part of the story had been true.

Having grown up in the city, I had never even seen chickens up close. They looked like fatter, less agile versions of pigeons. The rooster was pretty, with its tail feathers shining and shimmering in all possible colors, but its eyes looked angry as he stared at me for half a minute and then started running towards me. What the fuck!

He jumped up, fluttering his wings and pecked at whatever he could reach, making angry noises all the while.

Why did he hate me? I had just let him and his harem out of their prison!

“Leave me alone, you fuck!” I hissed, taking steps backwards, away from his house. The rooster kept on following me and pecking and when he finally deemed me far enough out of his territory, jumped up on the roof of his house and gave a crow that was much louder than I had expected it to be.

The zombies outside the fence answered the sound with their own groans and the whole fence shook with them trying to get through.

I moved backwards, towards the house, up the small porch, my back to the wall. Fucking Animals! Fucking Zombies! Fucking Granny most of all!!! Had that really been necessary?

More gunshots sounded in the distance, barely audible over the noise of the zombies. There must be a lot of them outside the fence. If they broke it down now, I would soon join their rows.

“Please come back soon Negan, please, please, please!” I whispered, frantically looking around for any kind of weapon. To my right was a small lean-to, holding gardening tools.

The fence continued to shake and wiggle as fists pounded against the wood from the outside. Where it had been standing straight up a few minutes ago, it started to dangerously lean inwards over the whole length of it.

I jumped down the stairs and quickly scanned the tools. A hoe, a pitchfork, a scythe…

With a groan and a crack the whole left side of the fence fell over. One of the chickens was crushed under it, the others were quickly caught by the zombies and eaten while they still moved. The rooster gave one last crow before it died.

There were at least twenty zombies and they were hungry.

I grabbed the scythe and hoped for the best. I had never even seen one of those outside of movies, but it felt good in my hands… and just right for fighting off a horde of hungry zombies, right?

Swinging the scythe before me like they did in the movies, I instantly decapitated two zombies and got my weapon stuck in a third one. Shit.

I let go of the handle as the third zombie fell over, scythe still sticking between his head and shoulder and turned back around for the pitchfork, stabbing at the zombies aimlessly. A few more fell, but there were too many. They were getting closer and closer and they would soon…

The back door opened. “What are you doing out there, deary?” Granny Smith cried. “Come on in!”

I whimpered. I would love to come inside, but…

Granny blast a shot into the horde with her shotgun and two zombies dropped. She stopped to reload and I managed to move up the stairs while keeping all the zombies at bay with my pitchfork. Granny Smith shot again, the muzzle of her gun so close by my head, my ears started ringing, but I made it into the house and we slammed the door shut, locking it and shoving a chair under the doorknob, before I dropped to the ground, hugging my knees.

My butt hurt, but my legs wouldn’t have carried me for a second longer.

“Fucking shit!” I whispered, half crying.

“What were you doing outside with those awful people, deary?” Granny muttered. “Here, have a drink! I’ll make you some tea!”

I took the glass she offered with shaky fingers. “Fucking shit,” I repeated before downing the whole of it.

Zombies were pounding and scratching at the door and at the walls and at the windows. “Oh go away, you awful people!” Granny Smith shouted, agitating them even more.

“Be quiet, Granny,” I whimpered. “They’ll go away if they don’t know we’re in here.”

“Oh I know, but I just hate to see how they scared you! Why were you even out there?”

I swallowed. “To… to get some eggs…”

“Those chickens have maybe laid two eggs between them in the last month! I would make soup out of all of them if I had the heart to kill them! They’re old and useless, just like me!”

I put the glass on the ground and my head on my knees. I wanted to go home! Away from those zombies, away from those useless chickens, away from this senile old woman. Just have a cup of coffee in peace…

A few minutes later the front door opened.

“We heard gunshots. You alright, Grandma?” Simon said, storming inside and looking his Grandma up and down.

Negan kneeled down before me, putting his hands on my shoulders. “You okay?”

I nodded. “Can we go back to the cabin? Soon?” I blinked a couple times to stop myself from tearing up.

Negan nodded as well and put his arms around me.

“I don’t know why she went out there,” Granny Smith said. “I just came back from the loo and found the key in the door…”

Negan pulled back, looking at me questioningly.

In that moment I hated Granny Smith. Making me look like an idiot when she had been the one who…“I’ll tell you later,” I whispered, shaking my head.

“I found a car. We can leave whenever you want.” He got up and held his hands out for me.

I let him pull me to my feet. “Thank you for your hospitality,” I said, moving towards the door. Every second we waited was one second too long.

“Thank you for breaking down our back fence,” Simon sarcastically said, “and for spooking Grandma.”

I took a step towards him, teeth gritted, fists balled at my sides. “Don’t you even talk to me about spooking your grandma, you… you… fucking asshole,” I gave him a shove, but he wouldn’t budge. “She fucking sent me out there for eggs and then locked me outside!” I hissed, my face directly before his.

“She probably had her reasons, you dumb bitch!” Now Simon was the one to give me a shove. I took half a step backwards before Negan caught me.

“Enough!” he said, stepping between Simon and me. “It was a fucking misunderstanding. Thank you for your hospitality, Simon, Granny Smith, really, but we better get going.”

“Yea, you better,” Simon agreed.

“Why is everyone shouting at each other?” Granny Smith seemed genuinely confused. “You can’t shove a woman like that, Simon. No matter what she did to you.”

Negan pushed me towards the door before I could jump to Simon’s throat.

“Those young girls are all the same,” Granny Smith said to Simon as we stepped outside. “They only care for how much money a man has, not for…” I didn’t hear the rest of the sentence, as Negan slammed the door behind us.

Outside, a Jeep waited for us, the back seats filled to the top with all kinds of groceries.

“Get in,” Negan said.

I couldn’t wait.


	8. Alone again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alana and Negan are back at the cabin... and they enjoy it...

I told Negan all that had happened on the drive back up to the cabin. A few zombies had strayed into the forests but we managed to evade or run over most of them without damaging the car.

This was how far we had come: running over zombies on purpose and all we were worried about was the car…

The trail went almost all the way to the cabin and with the jeep we managed to drive a little farther, but the last part we had to walk, carrying everything that had fit into the back seat and trunk of the car. I had no idea how long we would be able to live on it, but hoped it would get us through a couple of weeks at least. It took us both three trips to get everything into the cabin.

The cabinets were full, we had a warm fire burning in the stove and we were alone again. I hopped up on the kitchen counter and Negan stepped between my legs to kiss me.

Wrapping my legs around him, I squeezed him closer, kissing his neck. “I’m so glad, we’re alone again, to do… as we please… when we please…”

“They… didn’t have any condoms,” Negan said.

“What?” I stopped kissing him just long enough to squeeze out the one word.

“Well they did, but… not in my size.”

I pulled back. “Your… size?”

“I’m,” he cleared his throat, “bigger than average.” He didn’t entirely manage to hide his pride at that fact.

I kissed him again, not sure what to think. I had realized from our close encounters that he was big, but not that he was THIS big. As if to reassure myself once more, I moved my hand down, cupping him through his pants. “So what should we do then?”

“We will have to be… inventive,” Negan murmured, rubbing up against me.

I slid down from the counter and turned us around so I could get down on my knees before him. “Like this?” I whispered, undoing his pants.

“It’s a start,” he muttered.

Slowly, carefully I pulled down his pants, leaving them to hang between his ankles. I rubbed my cheek against the bulge in his boxers.

He was hard as a rock.

I moved upwards and kissed the spot just below his navel, where a line of dark hair went downwards and vanished into his boxers. He smelled heavenly.

My hands cupping his dick inside its confinement brought a deep growl from his throat.

I looked up at him and hooked my fingers into his waistband, carefully pulling it down. His dick springing free made my mouth water. He hadn’t lied about his size. If we ever had sex… I swallowed at the thought.

I let a careful finger travel over him, from base to tip and waited for him to grip my head and make me…

No.

He wouldn’t do that.

I could do with him just as I pleased. Tease him, explore him, take my time…

Negan liked when I enjoyed myself. The thought made me smile. I could make this last however long I wanted.

My hands wandered up and around his thighs to cup his ass. Fingers greedily digging into his flesh,

I licked a thin line up the inside of his thigh.

He stepped his feet apart as far as his pants between his ankles allowed.

I continued on up towards his groin and finally found his dick, teasing it with just the tip of my tongue.

Negan sighed lowly and a glistening drop of precum formed on his tip.

I greedily licked it off, eliciting a long drawn sigh from him. The salty taste filled my mouth and made me want more, so I licked him again, base to tip and let my lips embrace his head. The skin was lovely smooth there and I allowed myself to tease him with my tongue for a bit, before moving on. He wasn’t long as much as he was thick. I had to be careful with my teeth as I took him into my mouth, slowly, taking my time, enjoying the sensation.

“Fuck yes,” he moaned, his fingers gripping the edge of the counter.

I took him in as far as I could before I pulled back, drawing things out a bit longer. I was allowed to take my time.

His balls, as I moved down to them, were tight with lust and I sucked them into my mouth gently as I could, wrapping my fingers around his dick and slowly pumping him once or twice.

When I moved upwards again, I let him slide over my cheek, closing my eyes and enjoying the sensation before I sucked him into my mouth again and down my throat as far as I could take.

“Fucking shit…” Negan groaned.

I looked up and our gazes met. “Touch yourself,” he panted, reaching down and awkwardly cupping my breasts with his hands. “I want you to make yourself come while you suck me off,” he said.

I pulled away, letting him out of my mouth with a pop, hesitating.

He pulled me to my feet and kissed me while he unbuttoned my pants with quick fingers.

Taking my hand in his, he dove into my pants and pushed my fingers inside of me, curling them forwards with his.

I whimpered against him and he pulled back, licking his fingers. My own hand remained where he had put it, fingers carefully moving inside of me. It felt wrong to touch only myself while he was so hard before me, but Negan seemed to enjoy it, enjoy watching me.

He gripped the bottom of my shirt and pulled it up over my head, forcing me to pull my hand out of my pants.

His movements were quick and bordering on uncontrolled, as he squeezed my breasts together and stuck his face between them, taking a deep inhale. “Hmmm… fuck…” he muttered, pulling the straps of my bra off my shoulders and unhooking it.

I whimpered, as he pulled my bra off all the way and tossed it away.

He cupped my breasts and I took hold of his dick, pumping him slowly.

“Tighter,” he muttered.

I gripped him harder.

His eyes fluttered closed and he inhaled deeply. “Yea, just like that,” he groaned.

I moved up on tiptoe and kissed him once more, my nipples brushing against his chest, overly sensitive with how much I wanted him. When had he found the time to take off his shirt?

It hardly mattered. I kissed his neck and throat and chest, moving downwards again.

His dick was almost purple with all his blood pounding through it. I licked his tip once, cleaning the precum off of him and then took him in again all the way, holding on to his thigh to keep my balance.

“Touch yourself,” he ordered once again and I cupped my breasts, enjoying the sensation of my own cold fingers on my tight nipples. Only his dick in my throat stopped me from moaning.

“Much better…” he muttered, placing his hand in my hair, pushing me against him just a bit. I half expected him to take control, but he was only just overwhelmed with his desire for more.

I moved to cup his balls, letting my middle finger tease the spot just behind them.

Would he enjoy…? I moved my fingers back just a little farther until I felt the circular muscle and carefully teased it.

He groaned weakly and had to catch himself against the counter. “Fuck, doll, you’re…” his sentence broke off as I pushed just a little farther. “I’m gonna come, if you keep this up…”

I sucked his dick a little harder, moving my head a little and took him in as far as I could one last time. The familiar tightening in his balls was warning enough he was about to come and I pulled back and let him spill straight on my face, looking up at him.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he muttered, reaching for a paper towel to wipe me off.

What? Why? Hadn’t he wanted to…? “I…” I took the towel from him and took over cleaning myself. “I thought you’d like that…”

He shook his head. “I mean… It’s hot as shit, but… do you like it?” He pulled me to my feet again.

I hesitated. I had never wondered about whether or not I liked having a man come all over my face. It was just a thing I… had started doing a short while after I had started to date Micah.

My expression must have betrayed my thoughts.

“If I ever see that fucker Micah again, I’m going to fucking kill him,” Negan muttered. He took a fresh paper towel and, wetting it in the half empty bucket on the counter, wiped at my face some more.

“I… I’m sorry,” I muttered.

“You’ve done nothing wrong.” He kissed me, despite the remains of his spill on my face. “Except you didn’t make yourself come! Don’t think I didn’t notice!”

“Well, I needed my hands to… take care of you…”

“And take care of me you did!” he grinned, “fuck, I never thought I’d be glad I didn’t get any condoms…”

I kissed his chest, holding on to his hips.

Damn, he was perfect… Narrow hips, flat chest, broad shoulders, but not too broad, his arms clearly strong but not overly muscular… The faded tattoos on his chest and upper arm told the story of a life well lived. His dick, now limp, but still thick would have been brutally intimidating on a man other than him. It explained why he was so into me enjoying myself as well… because if I didn’t, sex with him would be unbearable.

I took a step back and my unbuttoned pants threatened to slip down over my hips. Yea, right, I was almost as undressed as he was… Did he like what he saw as much as I did? My tummy wasn’t flat like his, I had stretchmarks on my breasts and thighs, cellulite on my ass. Suddenly I felt self-conscious.

Looking for my clothes, I turned away.

I put on my bra and washed my face properly before slipping my shirt back over my head.

Negan, sadly, had put on his clothes as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the end of that first "volume" of this story...   
> But I just finished the first draft of the second volume and only need to edit it before posting...   
> It's going to be a little more violent because Negan needs to break in order to become the Negan we all know and love. 
> 
> Stay tuned, dear readers <3


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